


36 Views of Mount Fuji (Remastered)

by theroseprince



Series: Red and White Plum Blossoms [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: English, F/F, F/M, Floating World, Futurism, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Japanese Art, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), LGBTQ Muslim Character(s), LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Music, Past Child Abuse, Romanticism, Shunga, Surrealism, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Writers, nonbinary characters - Freeform, ukiyo-e
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 60
Words: 261,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroseprince/pseuds/theroseprince
Summary: [College AU | Repost from FFN] Prompt: Victor is harboring two hopeless crushes: one on the cute boy with glasses in his art history class and the other on the sexy, mysterious figure who skates alone on the local outdoor rink at night. / Victor Nikiforov and Yuri Katsuki share an art history for a semester and it turns out staring isn't rude after all.[BIG NOTE: THERE IS NO NON-CON IN THIS PART. AO3 just won't let me change it. Disregard that tag.]
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong, Phichit Chulanont/Katsuki Yuuri
Series: Red and White Plum Blossoms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718896
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39
Collections: Yuuri on Ice Hell





	1. Eleggua

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to post my trash on AO3 so my one friend can read my fanfic because they're finally getting into YOI. 
> 
> Subhanallah.

**(Wednesday, 9 September 2015 – 8:45am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

It was the first day of the new semester for Yuuri Katsuki. The figure skating season had begun in July, and Yuuri was wholeheartedly dedicated to throwing themselves into their studies and their career as a professional figure skater. Their first class of the day was art history. The instructor of the course, Laura Heiner, was running late. Yuuri’s classmates were slowly filling the room. Yuuri, wanting to make a good impression on their professor, wanted to be early to class. And they were there, too. Phichit Chulanont, a fellow figure skater, their roommate, best friend, and platonic life partner were also taking art history this semester. However, Phichit was taking art history on Thursdays because the Wednesday class was full and they had registered late. Yuuri was sitting to the extreme right of the classroom. Yuuri was doodling in their sketchbook, trying to draw the octopi from The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife. Whenever the door opened, Yuuri’s eyes shot towards the door. They really wanted their professor to come to class.

Instead of the professor walking through the door, it was a tall man with flowing silver hair that was kept in a high ponytail. His long lashes partially obscured his sparkling turquoise eyes. He was wearing black jeans, a dark blue, striped cardigan, and Air Force Ones. He sat right next to Yuuri, placing his messenger back on the back of his chair. The silver-haired man took out a notebook and leaned back as he chewed on his lip and played with his pen. Yuuri was gaping at him.

“Yes?” The silver-haired man asked as he looked at Yuuri. “May I help you?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured. “You just have very long hair.” The man smiled. “It’s nice.” The man smiled harder. Yuuri decided to stop gaping at him and continued drawing the octopi. 

It was 8:50am now, and the professor finally came in. “I apologize for my lateness, class. I was in traffic.” The professor went on a spiel about how the police were doing an investigation in her area of Detroit, so she had to use the side-streets. “I originally wanted to do an icebreaker game, but if I do it now, it will cut into the time I need to explain the syllabus for this course. So I apologize for that.” Professor Heiner gave the girl near the door a syllabus for the class and told her to pass it around. The girl did as she was asked. Yuuri and the silver-haired man were the last two to receive a copy of the syllabus.

Professor Heiner explained her class, broke down the syllabus, and suffered the questions her students asked. Yuuri didn’t precisely tune their professor out, but they weren’t necessarily paying attention, either. They took a break from drawing the octopi and looked up. Their professor was still talking. Then they looked to their left. Some students were on their phones. Then they looked at the silver-haired man. The silver-haired man was spaced out a bit, looking at something in Yuuri’s direction – or out of the window. Yuuri quickly turned the page of their syllabus along with their class. They looked at the syllabus dubiously; it _had_ to be longer than six pages.

“Next, I will be passing out samples of the types of essays I want to receive in this class,” Professor Heiner said. She gave the same girl a stack of papers for her to pass around. Like before, Yuuri and the silver-haired man were the last to receive them. She droned on and on, not once checking to see if her students were remotely intrigued by the prospect of learning about European art. Yuuri desperately wanted and preferred to be in an Asian art class – a place where they would genuinely shine – but the university didn’t offer the type of art history classes Yuuri would be interested in. They loved Asian art because of their dearest elder sister, Mari. She would take them to the Fukuoka Art Museum, and Yuuri loved being in that museum with the only sibling he’s ever known.

Yuuri outlined the octopi in pen, deeming themselves to be done with the octopi. Maybe later they could get around to drawing the _ama_.

“Now, this is a three-hour class that meets once a week,” Professor Heiner said. Yuuri stopped drawing. “In order to be marked as ‘present,’ you must be here within fifteen minutes of the start of the class, or else you will be marked as absent. You are allowed three unexcused absences or else you will fail the course. I do not offer make-up classes or extra credit assignments.” She walked to the other side of the room. “You will have to go to a museum once a week, pick a piece, and analyze and describe it. I will not accept any pictures of your chosen artwork.”

Yuuri looked over at the silver-haired man. He seemed to be writing in an unfamiliar language in his yellow spiral notebook. It looked to be similar to Ukrainian except that it didn’t have that _ї_ letter. The silver-haired man tore the paper out of his notebook and wrote on it. He folded it, passed it to Yuuri, and smiled.

Yuuri tentatively opened up the paper and read it. It had a series of large scribbles on it. They squinted and gave up. They weren’t trying to read that right now. Maybe later. But not right now.

#

**(Wednesday, 9 September 2015 – 8:00pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was skating in the ice rink at the Dearborn Gym. They couldn’t focus on their coursework; they were very lost in their thoughts tonight. Earlier, the Madonna of Hasetsu Castle, Yuko, had told Yuuri that she was going to marry their childhood friend, Takeshi. Despite being very in much in like with Yuko as a self-conscious adolescent, the only thing that bothered them was the fact that they wouldn’t be able to go to the wedding. Whatever feelings Yuuri might’ve had for Yuko – for anyone they found themselves pining for – had been, quite literally, ground into the ice.

But Yuuri wasn’t thinking about any of that tonight. They were thinking about that handsome man who sat next to them in class. Yuuri was thinking about how they looked like Victor Nikiforov. They also spent a good while in the library after class, trying to understand what that man wrote on the paper he gave them. It looked like scribbles to Yuuri, but they were confident that it meant _something_. You don’t tear out a page from your notebook with writing on it and give it to someone for no reason. Yuuri was sure that they saw him writing in Russian. “Maybe it’s Russian,” Yuuri thought.

They stopped skating and breathed. While Phichit was away at events, Yuuri thought to start working on their Salchows. Coach Cialdini had told Yuuri not to practice their Salchows just yet, but Yuuri was an overachiever, a perfectionist, and a hair-splitter – just like their abusive grandfather. They had big dreams, and one of them was to surpass Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri thought about doing that often, but – without jumps – they just couldn’t see it happening.

But, right now, Yuuri felt a pair of eyes on them. They started to glide around the perimeter, trying to see if anyone was at the rink with them, but they saw no one. The thought of someone observing them as they practiced make anxiety congregate in their stomach. It was dark, and only the moonlight illuminated specific areas of the rink. They stopped moving and looked towards the door. The moon didn’t illumine the door, and they didn’t have their glasses on, so all they saw were large, ghoulish shadows. They took a few hesitant steps forward. They wanted to believe they were just seeing things – that would’ve been more preferable to a person observing them while they were unaware. They were, for the most part, used to seeing things. 

“Should I continue?” Yuuri tentatively asked. No one answered. “I’m going to leave now.” Yuuri looked around the gym; they couldn’t make out any human figures. All they could see were the large shadowy figures and the faint shadows the objects of the gym made in the moonlight. The shadows Yuuri saw were never aggressive. They were, at best, an annoyance; at worst, they were horrifying and debilitating. They skated to the edge of the rink and changed into their Timbs. Luckily for Yuuri, it was a warm summer night, and they didn’t have to worry about freezing to death once they stepped outside. The shadows stayed behind, and Yuuri walked back to the apartment they shared.

Phichit and Yuuri met at the end of Yuuri’s second freshman year – as college goes by the number of credits you have and not by how long you’ve been there. Yuuri had loved the way Phichit was enthusiastic about everything and their extroverted nature; Phichit had loved and admired Yuuri’s “inner calmness.” When Phichit told Yuuri that, they didn’t understand what he meant by “inner calmness,” but they took it as a compliment. After that day, Phichit had made the decision that they should be roommates and Yuuri had no quarrel with that. They were looking to escape from the nightmare that was dorming. Yuuri honestly liked Phichit’s calming presence, and they wouldn’t dream of anything changing between them. 

After a brisk walk, Yuuri made it back to the apartment. Phichit told Yuuri that he was making pad Thai for dinner tonight. “Hey lapinou,” Phichit said. “How was your first day?” Yuuri held up their hand and went into the room they shared to drop off their equipment. Then they came back into the kitchen. “So?”

“It was okay, I guess,” Yuuri said. “My art history class is dull, and my calculus class gives me a headache.”

“Did you make any friends?” Phichit asked. Yuuri chuckled. “Yes? No? I don’t know how to interpret your laughter.”

“I interacted with one person today. Did I do good?” Phichit chuckled. Yuuri leaped onto the counter and sat down. “What about you? How was your day?” Phichit started talking about his day and the jokes he made with his classmates about the subject matter. Phichit kept talking and talking, and then he stopped once he exhausted the list of things he did today. 

“What about that one person you talked to, Yuuri?” Yuuri looked at him. “What did you say to the person?”

“I just told him that his hair is nice,” Yuuri said. Phichit nodded, hoping for more. “That’s it.” Yuuri leaned their head back and let the back of their head touch the cabinet door. “Oh, and then he wrote something on a piece of paper and gave it to me. I have no clue what it says, though.” Phichit shrugged.

“And how was practice?”

“It was fine until I started seeing the shadows,” Yuuri said. Phichit moved the pad Thai from the eye of the stove to look at Yuuri. “I was skating, and then I saw shadows and felt eyes on me. Then I left.”

“Would you rather we discuss that now or later?”

“Whichever,” Yuuri said.

“Okay, so now, then,” Phichit said. Yuuri nodded. “Are you paying attention?” Yuuri nodded. “Tell Ciao Ciao about them. And tell Luzia and Noêmia, too.”

“But I’m fine,” Yuuri whined.

“Not if you’re hallucinating,” Phichit said.

“The shadows don’t even do anything to me,” Yuuri said. “They just observe. No more. No less.”

“And what if they decide to _not_ just observe anymore?”

“That’s not how visual hallucinations work, but okay,” Yuuri said. Phichit sighed. “But fine. I _guess_ I can tell Ciao Ciao or whatever.”

“Good,” Phichit said. He returned the majority of his attention to the pad Thai. “Do you want to take a shower?”

“Is the tub wet?” Yuuri asked.

“No,” Phichit said. Yuuri leaped off of the counter and went into the bathroom. They could use a nice, hot, steamy shower to get their mind off the day and the shadows and that man from their art history class. 


	2. Can't Get You Out of My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor corners Yuuri in the library to try and break the ice again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and finish uploading all the chapters by tonight, but I can't promise you that my OCD will not act up.

**(Thursday, 10 September 2015 – 8:45am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

After dinner last night, Phichit and Yuuri went to bed. Yuuri woke up in time for their French class and, while they were a bit apprehensive because of the first time they took French, they managed to get through the lecture. They were in the back of the library now, FaceTiming with their sister.

“Mari!” Yuuri said as they grinned.

“Hey there, little brother,” she said in Japanese as she took a drag off her cigarette. She was in her room by the window. She usually smoked by windows. “How’s your semester going?”

“It’s pretty okay, so far,” Yuuri said. “It just started, though.” Mari smiled.

“Did Yuko call and tell you her news?” Yuuri nodded. “How do you feel? I know that you had tender, lovey feelings for her.”

“I’m happy for her,” Yuuri wistfully said. “I just wish I could go to the wedding.”

“And how has your mental health been?” Mari likes to check in on Yuuri whenever they would talk. The understanding their parents had was extremely limited because they simply couldn’t understand it, but Mari understood enough about it to check in whenever they would have a call. “Have you been taking your medicine?” Yuuri nodded. “And have you been trying to socialize?” Yuuri hesitated but ultimately nodded. “You haven’t, have you?”

“Not really,” Yuuri said with a sheepish smile. They interacted with their rink mates and their coach. That was all the interaction Yuuri needed in this life; however, that simply wasn’t satisfactory enough for some people. “Isn’t it midnight?” Mari nodded. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” She nodded again. “How’s Minako?”

“She’s still our most frequent visitor,” Mari said. “You know…”

“Oh no,” Yuuri whispered.

“Mom and Dad named the katsudon bowl after you.” Yuuri turned red. “This isn’t even news anymore!” She cackled.

“I _know_ that, but I still don’t like that they named it after me. It’s so embarrassing.” Mari grinned.

“Do you have any other classes today?” Yuuri shook their head. “You should probably get started on your homework then, right?” Yuuri nodded. “Oh, didn’t you tell me that you’re taking an art class?”

“It’s an art _history_ class, but yes.”

“How do you like it?” Mari asked.

“I hate it so far, but it reminds me of when we would go to Fukuoka together. I miss Fukuoka.”

“You still remember that?” Yuuri nodded and smiled. “When you come back, we should go. They’re supposed to have a new exhibition this December.”

“Did they announce it?” Yuuri asked.

“No, not yet,” Mari said. “When they do, I’ll be sure to text you.” Mari smiled. “I should get to bed. Long day tomorrow.”

“Every day is a long day for you,” Yuuri pointed out.

“True,” Mari said. “Okay. I’m going to try and get some sleep.” Yuuri nodded. “I love you,” she said in English.

“I love you, too,” Yuuri said to her in English. Mari ended the call, and Yuuri put their phone on the coffee table in front of them. The silver-haired student came by and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. He was reading a book by Andrei Bely. From time to time, the man would glance at Yuuri, and Yuuri would do the same. Yuuri heard a paper rip out of a notebook; no doubt that it was the student across from them. The only sounds audible in the area were the scribbles coming from Yuuri and the student.

After what seemed like an eternity, the silver-haired student spoke up. “You’re in my art history class, right?” Yuuri nodded. “You were drawing those octopi yesterday, right?” Yuuri nodded again. “What’s your name?”

“Katsuki, Yuuri,” Yuuri murmured as they turned the page of their French notes. “And yours?” There was a silence. Yuuri looked over at the silver-haired man; he seemed to be confused.

“Victor Nikiforov,” he said, almost as if he didn’t know his name. Yuuri accidentally tore a page out of their binder. “Are you okay?”

“You’re _the_ Victor Nikiforov?” Yuuri looked at Victor and Victor nodded. “What are you doing _here_? Don’t you have to be blowing everyone away somewhere?” Victor chuckled and stopped writing. Yuuri was trembling now. No amount of deep breathing and positive self-talk could have ever prepared Yuuri for this exact situation. They were within reach of their everything; breathing was the last thing on their mind.

“Not until next month,” Victor said as he took down his ponytail. Then he continued to write. “So, until I have to start skating again, it seems we’re going to be classmates, Yuuri.” Yuuri looked at Victor.

“Why are you even in Detroit?”

“Can’t I be somewhere that’s not Russia?” Victor retorted. Yuuri stayed silent and tried to put their paperback into their binder. Victor continued writing. “You’re really shy, aren’t you?” Yuuri looked at Victor again. Victor folded the paper he was writing on and handed it to Yuuri.

“I–”

“Just take it,” Victor urged. Yuuri could feel Victor’s finger touch the vein on their inner wrist. They opened the paper and looked at it briefly. They still couldn’t read what Victor had written and this was _after_ they had spent hours analyzing his handwriting. “Those octopi you were drawing yesterday looked very nice.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri murmured. They stopped trying to put the torn paper back in their binder and went back to giving form to the _ama_.

“Do you like art?” Yuuri nodded. “Then we should work on our art history assignments together!” Yuuri stayed silent and continued to draw. “What are you drawing now?” Victor got up and stood over Yuuri to get a better look at what was being drawn.

“Please do not do that,” Yuuri said. “I do not like people staring at me as I work,” Yuuri said as they covered up the _ama_ with their hands. Yuuri has this problem with people looking at them as they do, well, anything. It borders on being a quirk to being a full-blown phobia.

“Alright then,” Victor said. He grabbed his things and moved closer to Yuuri.

“Do you know if we have to start going to museums this week?”

Victor shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. I wasn’t paying attention.” Yuuri tsk-tsked. “You weren’t paying attention either, Yuuri.” Yuuri smirked and rolled their eyes. “Do you have any classes for the rest of the day?” Yuuri shook their head.

“And yourself?”

“Yes,” Victor said.

“Shouldn’t you get going then?”

“No,” Victor said. He reached for Petersburg and opened it.

“Are you just going to sit there?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes,” Victor said. He decided to read his book in silence as Yuuri continued to draw. It was uncomfortable – more so for Yuuri – but they sat there together in their awkward silence. 

#

**(Thursday, 10 September 2015 – 7:00pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri!” Phichit yelled from outside of the gym. Yuuri was several feet away from the entrance. “How was your day? How was French? _¿Era buena?_ ”

“I don’t think that was French,” Yuuri said. Phichit laughed. “Is Ciao Ciao inside?” Phichit nodded. “You would not _believe_ the day I had today.” Yuuri put their equipment bag over their shoulder.

“Did you meet someone new today?”

“No, but I saw that guy from my art history class today,” Yuuri said. Phichit nodded. They didn’t enter the building yet. “He started a conversation with me.” Phichit grinned and gestured for Yuuri to go on. “He asked about my art. Then he gave me another paper. Then he suggested that we work together on our assignments.” Phichit was chuckling. “What? What’s so funny?”

“You made a new friend!” Phichit gushed. “I’ve been waiting for this day!”

“No, I did _not_ make a new friend,” Yuuri said. “We should get inside. Ciao Ciao is probably freaking right about now.” Phichit agreed and patted Yuuri’s back. Yuuri opened the door for Phichit and themselves and went inside.

#

**(Thursday, 10 September 2015 – 9:00pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Practice was over for the night. The other skaters – Khoudia, Masabeeh, and Tal’ at – were in the changing rooms while Yuuri and Phichit were on the ice and talking to Coach Cialdini. Coach Cialdini had finished chastising Yuuri for attempting Salchows. After the chastisement, Phichit was shooting the breeze with Coach Cialdini.

“Yuuri has something to tell you, by the way,” Phichit coolly mentioned.

“I do?” Yuuri aloofly asked. Phichit looked at Yuuri. “Well, apparently, I do.”

“About last night when you were skating, mon chou,” Phichit gently said.

“Oh yeah,” Yuuri said. “So yeah. Yesterday I was trying to skate, but I kept hallucinating.” Coach Cialdini remained taciturn. “Should I explain what it looks like?”

“That is unnecessary,” Coach Cialdini said. “You should tell your therapist about this next time you see her. When do you see Maria Luzia next?” Luzia Sá is Yuuri’s therapist. She’s bubbly, kind, and she always believes in her patients. Yuuri has been seeing Luzia since their freshman year, and they’re forever grateful for her existence. 

“The week after next.”

“Try and see Luzia sooner. This is important.” Yuuri nodded. “You two get home now. It’s getting late.” Yuuri and Phichit left the rink after they went to the locker room and started walking to their apartment.

“How _is_ Luzia, by the way?” Phichit asked. “I haven’t asked about her recently.”

“Luzia is fine. Her wife is fine, too,” Yuuri said with a smile. They remembered when Luzia showed them her honeymoon photos. They went to Porto Alegre. Luzia looked so happy in Brazil.

“I’m glad they’re fine,” Phichit said with a smile.

#

**(Thursday, 10 September 2015 – 9:56pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri kicked their bookbag to the corner of the room and got in bed to scroll through their Instagram. Phichit was spending quality time with the hamsters. Yuuri wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of social media, but they did occasionally open the apps and scroll through their stories and news feeds. Phichit had taken a photo of Yuuri as they were putting on their skates; it was captioned: “mon chou getting ready to blow everyone away during practice!!” Yuuri chuckled.

“On Instagram?” Phichit asked.

“Yep,” Yuuri said.

“Saw my post?”

“Mmhm,” Yuuri said.

“Are you going to sleep now?” Phichit asked.

“I’ll try,” Yuuri murmured.

“I’ll try not to make any noise then,” Phichit said.

“Thank you, mon canard,” Yuuri murmured as they laid on their stomach and tried to catch the ever-elusive ZZZs.


	3. The Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri convenes with their ballet teacher on what to do about Victor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et quand le jour arrivé  
> Map touné le ciel

**(Friday, 11 September 2015 – 12:05pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri doesn’t have class on Fridays. Whenever they registered for classes, they would be sure to keep their Fridays clear. They liked having a head start on the weekend. It felt nice to have that kind of power over their schedule.

“Yuuri,” Eduvigis said. Yuuri turned around from their dance bag and looked at her. Eduvigis was a short, Afro-Cuban lady with extremely curly salt and pepper colored hair. “Something was different about your dancing today.”

“Was there?” Yuuri asked. Eduvigis nodded. She sat on the floor and invited Yuuri to sit across from her. Yuuri did as Eduvigis gestured.

“Did you meet someone?” She asked. Yuuri felt their face get hot. “Aah! You did!”

“I did _not_ ,” Yuuri said.

“Then why’d your face get red?” Yuuri shrugged. “How have your classes been? Do you like them?”

“Well, they all seem terrible so far,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis nodded.

“But that doesn’t explain why your dancing looked different,” Eduvigis said. “I saw it in your _pas de basques_. What were you thinking about?”

“Well…” Eduvigis leaned in. “This guy talked to me yesterday. But it isn’t just _some_ guy.” Eduvigis nodded.

“Do you know his name?” Eduvigis asked. Yuuri nodded. “Well? Stop holding out!”

“Er, Victor Nikiforov?” Yuuri said. Eduvigis’ eyes shone as she smiled. “He goes to Wayne now, apparently.”

“Is it that Victor Nikiforov you’re in love with?” Yuuri nodded. Eduvigis grinned. “Does he seem nice?”

“I wouldn’t know. I was trying to not freak out about it.” Eduvigis nodded. “I can’t believe he goes to Wayne now. It’s unbelievable.” Yuuri sighed. “I’m going to see him on Wednesday. He wants to work on our assignments together. I don’t know what to tell him.”

“You should take him up on his offer,” Eduvigis suggested. “Get to know your Victor.”

“My Victor?!” Eduvigis nodded and smiled. “He’s not _mine_.”

“Well, he _could_ be if you play your cards right,” Eduvigis said. She laid on the floor. “I fully support your endeavor to make Victor yours.”

"But this isn't my endeavor. I just want to pass my class and get my credits."

“I _know_ that,” Eduvigis said. “But you should also focus on getting to know Victor intimately.” Yuuri looked at Eduvigis. “You have the opportunity of a lifetime here. Do not throw away your shot.”

“I guess,” Yuuri said. "I can't believe I'm considering this." Yuuri got up and changed out of their dance clothes. “So, I’m going to work on my art history assignments with Victor.” Yuuri looked at their dance clothes and took a deep breath.

“Tell me how it goes,” Eduvigis said. “I would love to know when it happens.”

“I will be sure to tell you everything,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis got off the floor and readied the studio for her next class. Yuuri left Eduvigis’ studio and went to the apartment, making sure to avoid the high school students at lunch.

When Yuuri got home, they flopped on the sofa. This time next week, they would be at the museum with Victor, looking at art, and they couldn’t believe the utter load of garbage going on in their head.

#

**(Friday, 11 September 2015 – 6:09pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

After ballet, Yuuri decided to go to the rink to work on their Salchows. Coach Cialdini is probably going to be upset again, but Yuuri desperately wanted – nay, needed – to work on their Salchows. Eduvigis always told Yuuri to take it easy and that they will improve when it is time to progress, but Yuuri didn’t believe in taking it easy. They could take it easy when they’re dead.

This time Yuuri left the doors to the rink open and kept the lights on. It wouldn’t stop the shadows as _nothing_ truly ended the shadows, but this time they'll be able to discern if they're actually shadows. They skated and skated and skated some more until everything around them became a blur of colors.

Yuuri attempted a Salchow, but their execution and landing were sloppy. They stopped their twirling to take deep breaths. They looked towards the door. They thought they saw a figure – a humanoid figure. "Is someone there?" Yuuri whipped their head towards the door. They didn't get a look at the person's face. They had their back turned, and they were leaving now. "Who are you?" The person waved. "Answer me!" Yuuri skated towards the edge of the ice. “Come on now. Don’t do that!” The person kept walking.

Yuuri stood there, abashed. It was the second time this week that their sessions have been interrupted or hindered in some way. Yuuri got off the ice, sat down, and started to put their shoes on. They were teeming with frustration right now.

#

**(Friday, 11 September 2015 – 7:23pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was in charge of dinner tonight; they decided on making _shōyu_ ramen. Their mom makes it well, and they wanted Phichit to taste Japan. While they were cooking, they were in a FaceTime call with Mari. 

“So how was your skating session today?” Mari asked.

“Unfortunately short,” Yuuri said as they brought the water to a boil. "Someone was watching me skate, and they left when I caught them." Mari nodded. Vicchan jumped on Mari's bed and licked her face. "Vicchan!" Yuuri gushed. They stopped paying attention to the water and looked at Vicchan. He barked. “I love you.” Mari scratched Vicchan’s head and smiled.

“Vicchan sleeps in your bed. He misses you so much.”

“I hope you still wash my covers,” Yuuri said.

“Of course we do, little brother,” Mari said as she snickered. “Anyway, did you get a look at the person who interrupted your skating?” Yuuri shook their head. “For shame. I was hoping that you did. I’m curious.”

“This is the second time this week this has happened.”

“What happened the first time?” Mari asked.

“Well, the first time I saw shadows.” Mari nodded. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Are you going to tell your doctor about it?”

“I have to. Ciao Ciao told me to.” Mari snickered. “What? What’s so funny?”

“I’m just laughing at how you yield so easily to your coach,” Mari said. “You’re kind of submissive.”

"Well, to receive instruction, you have to be submissive to some extent."

“But so submissive that your coach tells you to ‘jump’ and you essentially say ‘how high?’” Yuuri rolled their eyes. Mari snickered some more. “Aren’t you cooking right now?” Yuuri looked at the stove. The water was still boiling.

“It’s just water. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Mari asked. Yuuri nodded. “Alright, then.” Mari smiled.

“Isn’t it morning already?” Yuuri asked. Mari nodded. “Are you trying to sleep in?” Mari nodded again.

“I saw Yuko and Takeshi yesterday,” Mari said. “They’re both upset that you won’t be able to make it.” Yuuri shrugged and paid attention to the boiling water. Then they added some more water. “Are you upset about it? Not being able to go, I mean.”

“Highly,” Yuuri said. There was silence.

“I’ll leave you to your cooking, I think,” Mari said. “I don’t want to see a fire happen because you decided to pay more attention to me than to your dinner.” Mari smiled. “I love you,” she said in English. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad that you say ‘hi.’” Yuuri nodded and ended the call. Then they started dinner. 

#

**(Friday, 11 September 2015 – 8:36pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Phichit stayed in class late today. Yuuri had already eaten, and they were watching Phichit eat. "How was skating today?"

“I was interrupted,” Yuuri said as they scrolled through Victor’s Instagram.

“Shadows again?” Yuuri shook their head. “No? What was it this time?”

“A person was observing me,” Yuuri said. Phichit made a face. “A real live person.” Yuuri put their phone down and stretched. “These interruptions are bothering me very much.” Phichit grabbed the remote and turned off Stone Quackers. Yuuri had this idea that watching American shows would help them with understanding English. They weren’t exactly wrong.

“Just a suggestion – and feel free to tell me it’s a terrible idea.” Yuuri nodded. “Why don’t you go in the morning?”

"They don't open until 9am." Phichit ate some more of his ramen. "So, I suppose I'll have to keep going at my current schedule." Yuuri stretched again. “I’m sure that I won’t keep getting interrupted like this.” Phichit shrugged. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“You do that,” Phichit said with a smile. Yuuri got up and went to bathe.

#

**(Saturday, 12 September 2015 – 12:01am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

It was past midnight, and Yuuri and Phichit were lying in bed. The apartment was a one-bedroom. Back then, it was all they could afford. Yuuri’s parents were unsure of how Yuuri was going to live when they said that they didn’t want to dorm anymore, but Mari quickly stepped in and explained that they wanted to get an apartment. They were confused by it; however, after Mari’s gentle coaxing – as she did have a way with words – they allowed Yuuri to move into an apartment with Phichit. Phichit’s parents were warmer to the thought. They were, however, confused that they wanted to get a one-bedroom instead of a two-bedroom. They couldn’t explain to their parents that they were moving in with their (at the time) boyfriend so that a one-bedroom was fine enough. Even after they amicably broke up, they didn’t want to move out of their cozy apartment – their home. So they got rid of their full bed and got two twin beds. Phichit kept the left side of the room; Yuuri took to the right side. It works.

“Mon chou,” Phichit said. He was wide awake and scrolling through his Instagram feed. “Do you want to go to a party?”

“Right now? It’s midnight,” Yuuri said with their face down in the pillow.

“I mean tonight.”

"Would a party be the best of ideas?"

"Yes!" Phichit exclaimed. "You need to get your mind off of these disruptions, and we could both use some fun."

"The semester just started," Yuuri said.

“If you don’t go with me, I’ll leak the video of you at the last party we went to,” Phichit said. Yuuri sat up and turned on their light. "Yes, I am serious." Yuuri made eye contact with Phichit and held it; he was grinning.

“I’ll go,” Yuuri said through gritted teeth.

“Are you going for me or are you going because you don’t want me to leak the videos of you –”

“Does it even matter at this point?” Yuuri asked. “I’m going to the party with you, mon canard.” Phichit chuckled. “But don’t think I’m going to enjoy being there.” Yuuri turned off their light and laid back down. “I’m going to complain the entire time.”

“No, you won’t,” Phichit said.

“Yes, I will,” Yuuri said. “Okay, I think I’m going to try and sleep now. Goodnight, mon lapin.” Phichit nodded and turned on his side to look at Snapchat stories.

#

**(Saturday, 12 September 2015 – 9:55pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

While Yuuri was asleep, Phichit hit up the rink in their exclusive group chat and hit up a flock of Caribbean girls to ask where the next bacchanal was going to be. Masabeeh and Tal'at opted out of the party, saying that they'll hit up the next one. Camille said that their partner wasn't going to let them go. Khoudia said that their mom wouldn’t let them go to the party solely because it was a party. The Caribbean girls were excited to see Yuuri and Phichit again. The Caribbean girls were so lively and vivacious that they could make a party, assembly, or funeral as vibrant as them.

Yuuri was in the corner of the living room/party hall with a can of Sprite. Phichit was mingling with fellow Wayne students. Yuuri was hoping that – preferably sooner – a cat would walk out from somewhere, and Yuuri could just chill with the cat. But Yuuri already knew that they were probably going to end up hiding in the bathroom to try and get away from the sensory nightmare which was a house party. They wished they brought their Xanax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this!!


	4. Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri are trying to shoot their shots at each other and it literally goes as one could expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still working on the playlist. 
> 
> Because I am so thorough that I want a playlist, concept art, lore, etc. It's the only way it'll feel right.

**(Wednesday, 16 September 2015 – 8:30am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Professor Heiner was running late again. Victor Nikiforov wasn’t.

“Hey Yuuri,” Victor said as he walked into the room. Some of the students looked at them. Yuuri felt themselves get goosebumps. Yuuri tentatively looked up from their sketch of The Lantern Ghost and waved. Victor took his seat next to Yuuri. “I see you’re drawing again.” Yuuri nodded. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“A sketch of The Lantern Ghost,” Yuuri said.

“Who made that?”

“Katsushika Hokusai,” Yuuri said.

“And that is…?”

“A Japanese painter,” Yuuri explained. “My sister loves him and Hiroshige.” Victor stayed silent. “I doubt any American museums here have any of his work, but it’s on a lot of websites.”

“Where is your family from?”

“Japan,” Yuuri said. They started to draw the lantern. Victor stayed silent.

“You never answered me about working together for this class,” Victor said.

“Well, you didn’t ask me a question,” Yuuri simply said. Victor looked at them. “Also, I am not very interested in working alongside people. Sorry.” Yuuri bit their tongue. Eduvigis had essentially told them to shoot their shot, and Yuuri was doing a terrible job at that.

“Well, when we start going to museums for class, we should go together!”

“Didn’t I just say that I didn’t want to work alongside people?” Victor pursed his lips. Yuuri might as well continue to shoot Victor down since they weren’t in the mood to shoot their shot.

“Do you really consider going to a museum with someone as ‘group work’?” Yuuri stopped drawing, leaned back in their chair, and looked at Victor. "All I'm suggesting is that we go together. Once we get there, we can split up and go our separate ways.” Yuuri looked straight ahead and sighed. “What do you say?” His voice tinged with hope. Yuuri sighed. Victor was tenacious; they had to give him that.

“Fine,” Yuuri murmured. “When do you want to go?” They resumed drawing.

“This Friday? We can meet at the deli.” Yuuri nodded. “You look pensive.”

“And you talk a lot.” Victor snickered. “And I still can’t believe this is happening,” Yuuri thought. Who would’ve thought that the top figure skater in the entire world would be in the same room as Yuuri Katsuki and seemed to be interested in working with them? Nobody.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“I have class.”

“Will you be in the library tomorrow?”

“I will. After class.” Victor snickered. “I don’t understand what’s so funny.” Yuuri put down their graphing pencil and looked at Victor. Today he was wearing dress pants, Timbs, and a long-sleeved shirt. “I have a question, though,” Yuuri said, trying to keep their voice low.

“Ask away.”

“Why do you look so different in the pictures I’ve seen of you?” Victor made a face. "In the last magazine interview, you looked different. What changed?"

"Well, I grew my hair out some more, and I finally started trying to sleep like a normal person. After all, my age is starting to catch up with me now." Victor smiled. "Does that answer your question?" Yuuri nodded. “I’m glad to have answered you effectively.”

“You’re looking at me funny.” Victor wiped his face.

“Am I now?”

“Yes, you are.”

“How am I looking?”

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes,” Yuuri said. Victor and Yuuri blushed. “This is very awkward.” Yuuri turned to face the front and resumed drawing.

“I am not giving you bedroom eyes, Yuuri,” Victor incredulously said.

“Mmhm.” Victor took his notebook out of his bag. “Do you know if the professor is coming today?” Yuuri asked after a bit had passed. Victor remained silent and impassive. After a weighty pause, Professor Heiner came in and started her spiel on why she was late today. It was something about a disabled vehicle that caused traffic to get backed up.

#

**(Wednesday, 16 September 2015 – 11:20am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

The class was almost over, and Victor was busy writing another note. Yuuri was attempting to take notes on the subject at hand, but, eventually, they resumed their doodling. Professor Heiner was merely an all-around bore, and no one was giving her attention. Victor looked over his note, folded it, and passed it to Yuuri. Victor smiled and motioned for Yuuri to open it; they did so. Yuuri scanned the note, trying to understand what Victor had written, but eventually gave up. They put the note into their binder and resumed paying attention to the lecture.

“Alright, class, your homework for this week is to go to the museum, pick a piece of art, and analyze it. It is due next Wednesday.” Professor Heiner dismissed the class.

“Did you read my note?” Victor asked Yuuri as he stood.

“I’ll do it later,” they mumbled. Victor smiled.

“You should give me your number,” Victor said quickly. “So I can text you about Friday.” Yuuri put their binder in their bag and exchanged numbers with Victor. "Great! What class are you going to next?"

“I have calculus,” Yuuri said.

“Oh, so you’re a math major?” Yuuri shook their head. “No?”

“No.”

“So, what’s your major?”

“Fine art,” Yuuri murmured. They started to walk towards the door; Victor stayed there. “Aren’t you coming with me?” Victor scrambled to gather his things and hurried after Yuuri. They walked down the halls, shoulder to shoulder, discussing nothing.

But now it’s time for math.

“It was nice talking to you, Yuuri,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “I’ll text you later, I suppose.” Yuuri nodded again.

“I suppose this is a ‘bye’ then.”

“I suppose so. _До скорого!_ ” Victor said as Yuuri walked to their math class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, y’all, once I figure out how to import playlists to Spotify and they have the songs I’ve used, it’s over.


	5. Finesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit finds out who Yuuri has been texting while at practice and reads the situation.

**(Thursday, 17 September 2015 – 7:00pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Another Thursday, another day at the rink. Phichit came in late today because he had to talk to his chemistry professor. Phichit was such a kind, pure child. Yuuri was already on the ice, practicing their toe loops. After a while, Yuuri got bored with practicing their toe loops and started gliding. They waved at Phichit, Masabeeh, and Tal’at every time they passed by them. Masabeeh and Tal’at were giggling every time Yuuri would pass.

“You two are so adorable!” Masabeeh gushed. Yuuri decided to attempt an axel; their landing was unsteady, and they fell face-first onto the ice. “Oh, no!” Phichit and Masabeeh shot up; Tal’at was on Tumblr. Yuuri put their thumb up. “Oh okay. They’re fine now.” Tal’at chuckled and Yuuri wasn’t sure if it was because they saw a funny gif or if it was because of Yuuri’s nonchalance at falling face-first on the ice.

“Yuuri!” Coach Cialdini yelled. “What did I say about attempting jumps?!” He chastised as he stepped onto the ice. He helped Yuuri up and had Yuuri sit down. “Tal’at, it’s your turn. Show me what you’ve got.” Phichit greeted Yuuri at the edge of the ice and gave them their blade guards. Masabeeh moved to sit with Yuuri and Phichit.

“That was quite a landing, Yuuri,” Masabeeh said. “I hope you don’t bruise or anything.”

“Thanks, Masabeeh,” Yuuri said. Phichit and Masabeeh started talking about upcoming events. Yuuri was paying attention to Tal’at’s routine when their phone buzzed. They took out their phone; it was Victor.

Victor: How were your classes today?

Yuuri quickly texted him a “fine” and put their phone away. Their phone buzzed again. Yuuri rolled their eyes.

> Victor: What are you doing right now?
> 
> : I’m at practice.

Yuuri put their phone away as it buzzed again. Phichit intercepted Yuuri’s motion and looked at the text. “Who are you texting? Who is Victor?”

“That guy from my art history class.”

“You have his number?” Phichit asked.

“He gave it to me today,” Yuuri said. Phichit nodded and gave Yuuri their phone. Yuuri looked at the text and decided to respond.

> Victor: What do you practice? How’s it going?
> 
> : It’s most certainly going.

Yuuri put their phone back in their coat. If they keep texting Victor, they wouldn’t be able to focus on practice tonight. So they’ll keep their phone in their coat pocket. 

#

**(Thursday, 17 September 2015 – 9:23pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“What prompted this number exchange?” Phichit asked as he locked the door.

“He suggested that we go to the museum together this week, so he asked for my number,” Yuuri said. They took off their shirt, folded it, and placed it on the back of the sofa. “Do you want to order something?”

“Do you have anything in mind?” Phichit asked.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had Italian,” Yuuri said. “I think I want penne alla vodka.” Phichit nodded. “Do you want Capellini al Amanda?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Phichit said.

“Okay, I’ll order. You go shower.” Phichit complied, and Yuuri went into the bedroom for their laptop – after they were finished undressing, of course. They put their clothes on top of their dresser and sat at their desk. They went to UberEats and ordered their food. Then they went to iMessage. They had messages from Victor.

> Victor: That’s great! So, Friday.
> 
> : What about it?
> 
> Victor: Can we meet at 1:30pm?
> 
> : In front of the deli?
> 
> Victor: Yep ((smiling emoji with a blush))

Yuuri went into the living room for their phone and came back. They had a new message from Victor.

> Victor: So, what’s being an art major like?
> 
> : It’s a lot of drawing.

Phichit came out of the shower, dressed in his pajamas. “Still texting Victor?” Yuuri nodded. “This is the most I’ve seen you text that doesn’t involve Mari or Yuko.” Phichit chuckled. He was wearing his hamster pajama pants. Phichit sat on Yuuri’s bed and put his feet on the headboard of it. “So, how’s the conversation going?”

“It’s weird. He’s asking about what it’s like being an art major.” Phichit nodded. “He seems nice enough, I guess.”

“What does he look like?”

“Long silver hair. Turquoise eyes. Taller than me.” Phichit made a face; Yuuri looked at him. “It’s him.”

“And he’s talking to _you_!” Phichit yelled. Yuuri nodded. “Victor Nikiforov is talking to you! You have each other’s numbers! This is so exciting! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

“I didn’t know his name, and I couldn’t tell it was him,” Yuuri said. “He looks a lot different in person.” Yuuri wistfully smiled. “And he sits next to me in class, too. It’s so weird.” Phichit audibly gushed. Yuuri heard a ping from iMessage. No doubt it’s Victor.

“Answer him! Answer him!” Yuuri opened iMessage back up and read the text. “What does it say?!”

“‘Do you like coffee? Because we can stop for coffee before/after we go to the museum.’”

“He’s asking you on a coffee date! You better say yes!”

“He’s just asking if I like coffee,” Yuuri said, shooting down Phichit’s lofty idea. “It’s not a big deal.” Yuuri responded with an ‘I don’t care much for coffee, really.’” They heard another ping. Victor was unusually fast at replying to messages. He replied with an “Aww, well you can get something else from the café.” Phichit moved in closer to read the chat log. “Should I just let you read our texts?”

“That would be nice,” Phichit said. Yuuri unlocked their phone for Phichit and gave it to him. Phichit scrolled to the top of the messages. Yuuri moved to get up and dry off the tub to take a shower, but Phichit grabbed them by the shoulder. “Sit down.” Phichit started to pat Yuuri’s shoulder frantically. After Phichit reached the end of the chat log, he started shaking Yuuri.

“Calm down now,” Yuuri said. Phichit was giggling madly.

“He’s so! into you!”

“He is _not_ ,” Yuuri said.

“Right. I believe you,” Phichit said, not even attempting to mask the sarcasm. “What did you two do in class yesterday?”

“I was drawing, and he wasn’t paying attention,” Yuuri said. “And, before you say anything, I _was_ paying attention. I was just drawing _while_ I was paying attention.”

“And?” Phichit asked.

“Then Victor gave me a note.”

“What did it say?” Yuuri shrugged. “You don’t know what it says?”

“I couldn’t read it,” Yuuri said.

“Do you still have it?” Yuuri nodded and went into their sketchbook for it. “We’re going to look at Victor Nikiforov’s handwriting! Aah, this is exciting!!” Yuuri chuckled. “My best friend is going on a date –”

“It’s not a date –”

“With Victor Nikiforov, the figure skating champion of the world!” Phichit giggled and grinned and usurped Yuuri’s desk chair. Yuuri gave Phichit the notes Victor wrote. “These are the notes?” Yuuri nodded. “Great!” Yuuri pulled up Phichit’s desk chair and placed their feet in Phichit’s lap. They looked at Phichit tried to analyze the notes. Phichit’s face was blank.

“Do you understand any of it?” Yuuri asked.

“What language is this?” Phichit asked. Yuuri shrugged. “Is his handwriting consistently _this_ bad?” Phichit bit his lip. “How does he even understand his class notes?” Yuuri shrugged and yawned. “Is this a big game to him?! I don’t understand!”

“This is why I don’t bother with reading his notes,” Yuuri said. “I can’t understand them. So I suppose that they don’t mean anything.”

“He wrote several lines in Note #2 and Note #3. They _have_ to mean something!” Yuuri shrugged. “Did you order our food already?” Yuuri nodded. “You take a shower. I’ll wait for the food.” Yuuri got up and showered while Phichit waited for the food.


	6. Friday I'm in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri go to the museum and have a post-museum coffee date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To keep it a buck for the one time, it's 5am on a Sunday and I'm spending my time doing this instead of talking to cute girls tbh.

**(Friday, 18 September 2015 – 12:08pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

"So?" Eduvigis said as she sat by the upright piano. She kicked her leg up on the cover. "Your frappés are looking a lot more powerful. I wonder why." She snickered. “How did your art history class go? Did you talk to Victor?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said as they took off their dance shirt. “We’re going to the museum together.” Eduvigis cheered. “Phichit is convinced that it’s a date.”

“Which it is,” Eduvigis cut in.

“It is _not_ ,” Yuuri said. “We’re just going to the museum for homework. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Right,” Eduvigis said as she rolled her eyes. “Well, I hope you have a lovely day at the museum with _su alma_.”

“ _Él no es mi alma,_ ” Yuuri said.

“ _Pero lo podría ser,_ ” Eduvigis said with a smile. “I won’t keep you any longer. Go see _su_ _príncipe_.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “I want to hear everything about your museum excursion next class.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis got up and kissed Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri quickly dressed and left Eduvigis’ studio.

#

**(Friday, 18 September 2015 – 1:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

After a quick shower at home, Yuuri left. They were waiting in front of the deli, dressed as casually as possible. Phichit insisted that he was the one to pick out Yuuri's outfit. Phichit's goal was to amaze Victor, and he needed complete control – which Yuuri ceded to him. So Yuuri was in a pair of navy-blue dress pants, sneakers, and a black and white shirt. Phichit was sure that this outfit would amaze the pants off of Victor.

“Yuuri!” Victor approached Yuuri from Yuuri's left. "You made it!" Yuuri nodded. Victor was in jeans, a floral shirt, and sneakers.

“Yeah, I got out of bed today,” Yuuri said. Victor chuckled.

“You look dapper.”

“Thanks. My roommate picked out my clothes,” Yuuri casually said. Victor cackled. Once Victor’s rancorous laughter died down, Yuuri spoke up. “Do you want to stop for something before we go to the museum?” Yuuri put their phone in their pocket. "We can stop in the deli for a soda; we can go to the café for a coffee or a cake pop… You have options."

“Well, do _you_ want anything?” Victor asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll get something if you get something,” Yuuri said. Victor chuckled.

"Let's get something after we go, then." Victor cracked his knuckles. "The museum I'm thinking of isn't too far. It's close to Wayne." Victor started walking, and Yuuri followed. They made light, graceful conversation. But then Victor said this: “So you have a roommate?”

“Yeah.”

“And he picked out your clothes today?”

“He did,” Yuuri said. Victor awkwardly chuckled. “My roommate is like that.” Victor nodded. They stopped at a crosswalk. “Do you have a roommate?”

“No, just an apartment,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “It’s kind of lonely, but I value the silence.” Yuuri nodded again. “So, what do you do with your roommate?” Victor cleared his throat. “I’m just curious. I’ve never had a roommate before.”

"We help each other with homework. We cook dinner for each other. We go out together. You know, best friend-roommate stuff." Victor nodded. The light changed to green; they started walking again. "What do you do in your free time?"

"I practice, and I read," Victor said. "I read a lot. It's very cathartic." Victor smiled. "Do you read a lot?"

“Books? No,” Yuuri said, shamefacedly. “I don’t have the attention span for real books. But I do read about art.” Victor moved closer to Yuuri. Victor was close enough to grab Yuuri’s hand, but far enough that people would notice that someone was getting their hand grabbed.

“Why art?” Victor asked.

"My sister would take me to art museums with her, and I've been into art ever since," Yuuri explained. Victor nodded.

“Do you miss her?” Victor asked. Yuuri nodded. “I see.” They kept walking in awkward silence.

But then Yuuri fixed their mouth to ask this: “Have you always been coming here? To Wayne, I mean.” They were hesitant in their question and unsure if they were making the right decision by asking it.

“Ever since I’ve started postgraduate education,” Victor said. “But I’ve usually been taking classes online. I decided that I needed a change of pace.”

"So, you relocate to America and decide to attend class physically?"

“Exactly,” Victor said as he stretched his arms. “It sounds foolish right now, but it’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while. I can’t keep putting off postgraduate education, can I?” The question wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular. “I’m only young for so long now.”

“Are you having an existential crisis?” Yuuri blurted out. They bit the inside of their cheek at their forwardness.

“Me? Oh, no, no.” Victor scrambled to clean up his words. “I'm just thinking out loud. Sorry.”

“It's fine.” They stopped at another light. “Have you made any new friends while you're here?”

“No, sadly,” Victor mused. “But I met you. That has to count for something. Right?” Yuuri didn’t respond. The light changed. “Walk.” They started walking again.

"Why exactly did you choose me? There are so many other people to talk to."

“You complimented my hair,” Victor said. “And you looked interesting. I like talking to interesting people.” They turned the corner and kept walking. “Is it wrong for me to want to talk to an interesting person?”

“Of course not,” Yuuri said. “But you have to understand that –”

“Every interaction we’ve had is weird and one-sided,” Victor said. Yuuri looked at Victor; that isn’t what they were going to say at all. Victor reached into his pocket and put a note in Yuuri’s hand. “Read that when you get the chance.”

“Why do you keep giving me these notes?” Yuuri adjusted their glasses. "You keep giving me these papers and –"

“We’re here,” Victor said as he gestured towards the steps of the museum. “Let’s go!” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand and pulled them up the steps. Yuuri was blushing furiously right now. They couldn’t tell if Victor was blushing as wildly as they were, but Yuuri knew that they weren’t just going to leave Victor today.

#

**(Friday, 18 September 2015 – 3:59pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri and Victor didn’t separate like they originally planned at the museum. Instead, they followed each other around, making notes of the artwork they encountered. They got looks from people because of how close together they were standing, but it didn't cause any problems. Now they're in the café.

“How was the museum? What was your favorite part?” Victor asked as he stirred his coffee.

“The museum was great!” Yuuri gushed. They looked down at their iced tea. Victor smiled.

"I think I like the Rembrandt exhibit," Victor said. "Rembrandt's usage of dark colors is very nice. The landscape paintings he's done reminds me of the winters at home." Victor stopped stirring his coffee and put the cap on it. "The Visitation and The Self-Portrait Study were very nice."

“It’s pretty dark, though,” Yuuri said.

"Concerning brightness, Rembrandt paintings are very dark," Victor said.

“I know muted lighting is typical of Baroque paintings, but I can’t quite bring myself to like them.”

“Solely for that reason?”

“ _Sola_ ,” Yuuri said. Victor took a sip of his coffee; he made a face.

“Scorched my tongue,” Victor said. Yuuri chuckled. “What do you usually get from here?”

“Depends on the weather,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. “And yourself?”

“Any day is a good day for coffee,” Victor said. “I love it.” Victor smiled. He stared at Yuuri as Yuuri stared at their iced tea. Victor reached into his pocket and the object he had made crumpling sounds. “Do you like Western art?”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri nonchalantly said.

“I should introduce you to Monet and Degas, then. I feel like they’re up your alley.”

“I have seen many pieces by Monet and Degas,” Yuuri said. “Show me something new.” Yuuri chuckled as Victor smirked. “I am such a hoe for art.” Victor was grinning from ear to ear. “And maybe I can introduce you to Hiroshige, Hokusai, and Masanobu.” Victor nodded. “Oh! I never asked you what your major was.”

“English,” Victor simply said.

“English? Really?”

“Yes, really,” Victor said before he took a sip of his coffee. “Did you not expect me to be an English major?”

“Not at all,” Yuuri said. They shifted in their seat. “Why English?”

"I've spoken it for many years, and I like speaking it and reading in it," Victor said with a smile. "It's a funny language, but I like it." Yuuri took a sip of their iced tea. “I might go into teaching, publishing, or writing after I retire from skating, b–”

“I hope you never retire,” Yuuri blurted out. They bit their tongue at their forwardness. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off.” Victor smiled. “If you choose to retire then –”

“–Yuuri, you don’t have to clean up your statement,” Victor said. “It’s so nice to see a fan so passionate.” Yuuri’s hands grew clammy. As far as Yuuri knew, Victor knew nothing about Yuuri’s budding figure skating career or how they’re planning on competing against him at the Grand Prix this year. Should Yuuri tell him now and risk destroying their budding friendship with their special interest? Or should Yuuri wait until the Grand Prix and run into him there? Either way, they were confused and anxiety-riddled. “Hey, do you want to see something?”

“What is it?” Yuuri asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Victor said. He took out his phone. Yuuri was gazing at the screen. “Don’t look yet!” Victor tilted his phone towards his body. “Wait, before I continue, I should get a contact photo of you. Pose for me!” Yuuri made a face; Victor took the flick. “There we go! Okay, you can stop doing what you’re doing.” Yuuri chuckled. They decided to not think about literally competing against their favorite person right now. Right now, instead, they would focus on enjoying their museum outing with their favorite person. “This is Nova Aurigae by Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewicz. It’s really colorful and very different from Rembrandt.” Yuuri nodded. Victor scrolled through his phone. “And this one is Fantasy. It’s also by Witkiewicz.”

“Where is, um, that person from?”

“Witkiewicz? He’s Polish.” Yuuri nodded. “Later, I should show you some Kramskoi and Mayakovsky.” Victor smiled sweetly at Yuuri. Yuuri tried to return it. “Ah, you look so sweet.” Yuuri blushed and grinned goofily. “We should do this again next week. I mean, we have to go to the museum next week, but we should go to the museum together next week.” Victor put his phone face up on the table. Then he got a text from Christophe. “Oh wait, pose for another picture.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said as they took a sip of their iced tea. Victor unlocked his phone and took a flick of Yuuri. “Did you already take it? I wasn’t ready!”

“You look great,” Victor said.

“I’m not sure of that,” Yuuri flatly replied.

“Well, I _am_ , and I'm certain. You look great, Yuuri.”

“Who was my photo for?”

“Chris Giacometti,” Victor said.

“Him?” Victor nodded. “He’s about a year older than me, right?” Victor bit his lip. “I’m 22.” Victor nodded. “I thought so.” Victor took a sip of his coffee. “Are you two friends?”

“Extremely close friends,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “I told him that I was going to the museum today, and he wanted updates.”

“So you send him my picture,” Yuuri flatly said.

“Of course,” Victor said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“What did you just text him?”

“‘Out for coffee with… Yuuri,’” Victor said. He put his phone in his pocket. “Chris is very excited to see that I’m hanging out with people.” Yuuri took a sip of their iced tea. “Well, with someone I’m interested in getting to know, that is.”

“You want… to get to know me?”

"Sure! Why wouldn't I?" Victor smiled and took another sip of coffee. "You're nice, and you can say my name." Yuuri took another sip of their iced tea. “I like you, Yuuri Katsuki.” Victor’s middle finger stroked Yuuri’s middle knuckle. Yuuri looked down at their hands and felt a blush creep upon their face. Victor reached into his pocket and placed a folded note between the table and Yuuri’s palm.

“Another one?”

“Another one,” Victor said. Yuuri placed the note in their messenger bag and started to focus on their iced tea. Victor went back to stroking Yuuri’s knuckles. Then he began to stroke Yuuri’s other fingers with his other fingers. “What are you doing this weekend?” He asked, his voice low.

“Probably practicing or working on my homework,” Yuuri murmured. They took a sip of their beverage. “Yourself?”

“Same, probably practicing or working on classwork.” Victor looked Yuuri in the eyes. “You seem anxious. Is something bothering you?”

"You're still touching me, and I can't remember if I was supposed to text my roommate," Yuuri murmured. Victor didn’t stop stroking Yuuri’s knuckles. His hands were soft and warm, and Yuuri started blushing harder. "I should text him. To be safe." Victor nodded. "Pose for me." Victor smiled and posed for a flick. "Thank you." Yuuri sent the picture to Phichit.

> Phichit: !!!
> 
> Phichit: It's him!!!
> 
> Phichit: Tell him I love him!!!
> 
> : No. Love you.

Yuuri chuckled. Victor’s phone buzzed again; he impulsively checked it.

> Chris: Oh doesn’t he look like a snack lmao
> 
> Chris: He’s cute. You have good taste.
> 
> Chris: Wait, duh. Ofc you have good taste.
> 
> Chris: Proud of you for having good taste, love.
> 
> Chris: You may continue loving the pants off of him.

Victor chuckled. “Was that Christophe?” Yuuri asked. Victor nodded.

“He’s being very Chris,” Victor said with a smile. “Do you want to get going? Your roommate might be getting concerned.”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. “Let me ask him.”

> : Are you concerned about my wellbeing right now?
> 
> Phichit: Should I be???
> 
> Phichit: I mean
> 
> Phichit: I’m not, but should I be concerned?
> 
> Phichit: You’re safe, aren’t you?
> 
> : Very.
> 
> Phichit: Oh, okay, good. Come back whenever. Love you, mon chou.
> 
> : I love you, too, mon canard

“He said ‘come back whenever,’” Yuuri said. “So, I guess I can come back whenever.” Victor chuckled. “Do you want to do anything?” Yuuri internally kicked themselves when they said that. "I mean if you want to do anything else with me. You don't have to."

“Yuuri, let me just take you home,” Victor said. “You seem like you’re going to physically have a meltdown if I keep you out any longer.” Victor stopped stroking Yuuri’s knuckles. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.” Victor grabbed his bag, got up, and held his hand out for Yuuri to take. Yuuri looked down at Victor’s hand like it was a foreign object.

“Don’t you want your coffee?” Yuuri asked.

“I’ll get that once I get you situated.” Yuuri grabbed Victor's hand, and Victor supported them as they got out of the chair. They grabbed their drinks and walked out of the café. "Where do you live? You should probably be guiding me. Not the other way around." Yuuri’s hand went limp. “Do you want me to keep holding your hand?”

“Do whatever.”

“That isn’t helpful.”

“Fine. Hold my hand.” Yuuri’s breath hitched as Victor held Yuuri’s hand a bit tighter. “Now lead.” Yuuri hesitantly took the lead and walked Victor back to the apartment they shared with Phichit. “You did it.” Yuuri nodded. They were sweating and shaking, and their heart was threatening to burst out of their chest. They stood in front of Yuuri’s apartment door, neither of them letting go of the other’s hand.

“Thank you for walking me home.”

“And thank you for accompanying me to the museum.”

“Text me when you get home?” Yuuri inquired. It would've been rude of them not to ask him to let them know when he gets home. 

“I will.”

“Wait! Before you go!” Yuuri grabbed their phone with their shaky hands and took a flick of their hand holding Victor's. The picture, surprisingly, didn't come out shaky. "I'm happy you walked me home." Yuuri smiled sweetly – and it was genuine this time, too. “Talk to you later, Victor.”

“Same to you, Yuuri.” Yuuri unlocked their door and opened it. Victor didn’t leave until Yuuri was inside of the apartment, and they heard the door lock. Phichit wasn’t in the living room. Yuuri took off their coat and shoes and flopped on the sofa.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” they said to themselves. Yuuri looked at their left hand. They were in utter disbelief. They went on – what Phichit and Eduvigis would call – a date with the person they love most. That person said that they liked them, that person touched them, and that person held their hand and didn’t let go. Yuuri was merely stunned. "I don't think I'll ever rewash this hand."

“I’d probably continue to practice standard hygiene practices if I were you,” Phichit said as he came into the living room and plopped down next to Yuuri. “How was your date?” Yuuri stayed silent. “What’s this? You’re not going to try and counter me this time?”

“I don’t even know what happened today,” Yuuri murmured.

“What? What do you mean? Did something happen?”

“Today felt like it had more meaning to it than just a casual outing,” Yuuri said. Phichit grinned. “I’m not sure if you could call it a date, though.”

“I need to know why you said you weren’t going to wash your hands ever again, though,” Phichit said. _“¿Qué lo que, mami?_ ” Phichit laid on Yuuri’s back.

"Victor touched me and held my hand today, and now I'm a wreck," Yuuri explained. Phichit audibly gasped. Yuuri was glad to see that someone else was sharing this feeling with them. “It felt nice.” Phichit smiled. “Victor feels nice. We’re going to the museum next week.”

“It’s another date!”

“I wouldn’t call it a date, but okay,” Yuuri said with a chuckle. “But suppose this was a date, what do I do?” Phichit stroked his chin. “Do I remain casual? What do I do if he flirts with me?”

“Flirt back, obviously,” Phichit said. “Be endearing.”

“He already thinks I’m ‘sweet.’” Phichit nodded. “He said he likes me. I don’t know how to feel.”

“Well, he said that he likes you. That’s a good thing!” Phichit said after he yawned. “I was napping when you came in. Do you need me to pick out your clothes for next week?” Yuuri nodded. “Did he think that you looked nice today?”

“He did,” Yuuri said. “Then I explained to him that you picked out my clothes.” Phichit laughed. “Yeah, he laughed, too.” Yuuri chuckled. “He gave me two notes today.”

“Two?!” Yuuri nodded. “Two!” Yuuri took the notes out of their bag and gave them to Phichit. Phichit opened them and squinted. “Oh, I can recognize one word.”

“What’s the word?”

“Ears,” Phichit said. Yuuri deadpanned. “I’m very serious. It’s the word ‘ears.’” Phichit gave the notes back to Yuuri. “He’s being a goofball. I’m sorry, mon trognon.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri said. “I don’t expect much to come out of this anyway.” Phichit sighed. “So, what did you do while I was out?”

“I played with the hamsters,” Phichit said with a smile. “They are very energetic.” Yuuri chuckled. “But, then again, they are always energetic.” Yuuri unlocked their phone and found the picture of Yuuri’s and Victor’s hands. They kept their phone unlocked and waited for Phichit to notice it. “Is that your hand?” Yuuri nodded. They had a small mole near their left thumb, and it was their favorite of their multitude of birthmarks. “Is that Victor’s hand?” Yuuri nodded again. “You two are so! into each other!” Phichit squealed with delight. “Send me that picture! I _need_ that picture!” Yuuri sent the photo to Phichit and smiled. Yuuri’s phone buzzed. “Is that Victor? Answer him!”

> Victor: Made it home.
> 
> : Great!
> 
> Victor: Today was fun. I enjoyed it.
> 
> : I enjoyed it, too.
> 
> Victor: [has sent an attachment]

Victor sent a photo of himself in bed, cuddled up with his pillow. His pajama shirt was olive green, and he was clutching a teal mandala pillow; the pillow slightly obscured his face. Yuuri showed the photo to Phichit. Phichit smiled.

“Can we stop talking about Victor right now?” Yuuri asked. "I'd like to hear about your day with the hamsters." 

“Okay!” Phichit said as he started talking about his hamsters, and, eventually, hamsters in general. He loves hamsters. Like, _loves_ loves hamsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I *may* go to sleep after this chapter, but I probably won't because I'm in this for the long game.


	7. A Little More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri goes to therapy to talk about being mentally ill and Victor sends a thirst trap to elicit a response.

To: Maria Luzia Ledo e Sá, Cruz Noêmia Valquíra Oliveira e Souza

CC: Yuuri Katsuki

Date: September 10, 2015 – 10:18pm

Subject: Hallucinations

Body: Hello Maria Luiza and Noêmia,

I am emailing you to make you aware of the fact that Yuuri has recently made **me** aware of the return of their hallucinations. I didn’t know if Yuuri had made it to you sooner rather than their designated appointment time, so I am emailing you in case they did not have the chance to see you sooner. If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to email me or call me at (518) 555-0182.

Best,

Celestino Cialdini

#

To: Celestino Cialdini, Maria Luzia Ledo e Sá

CC: Yuuri Katsuki  
Date: September 16, 2015 – 10:03am

Subject: RE: Hallucinations

Body: Hello Mr. Cialdini and Dr. Sá,

Do not worry about a thing, Mr. Cialdini. Dr. Sá and I can work something out that will be beneficial to YK’s health. You can count on us.

Regards,

Cruz Noêmia Valquíra Oliveira e Souza

#

**(Tuesday, 22 September 2015 – 12:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was in the waiting room of the hospital’s adult psychiatric outpatient clinic. They were waiting to see their doctor today.

“Hello, Yuuri!” Luzia said as she stood at the mouth of the waiting room. Yuuri got up and followed her to her office. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” she said as she sat in her desk chair. “I’m glad you were able to keep your appointment today.” Yuuri nodded and smiled at Luzia. “How have you been since I last saw you?”

“I’ve been okay, I guess,” Yuuri said with a shrug. Luzia looked at Yuuri.

“What’s going on?” Yuuri remained impassive. “Is it your classes?”

“Not really,” Yuuri said. “It’s just that…” Luzia gestured for Yuuri to continue. "Well…" Yuuri bit their lip.

“What’s going on, _meu amorzinho_?” Luzia gently asked. “Is it important?” Yuuri nodded. She reached out and gently touched Yuuri’s hand. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Well,” Yuuri murmured, “Ciao Ciao told me to tell you that I’ve been having hallucinations again.” Luzia nodded.

“Ah, yes, your coach emailed Dr. Souza and me about that,” Luzia said. Yuuri’s face grew pale. “He sent it to you, as well. Did you not see it?”

"I don't check my email that much," Yuuri said.

“I see, well, no matter the case, Coach Cialdini emailed us to make us aware of it.” Yuuri nodded. “Dr. Souza is due to come in at any second to discuss what the plan is going forward.” And, as if on cue, Noêmia entered Luzia’s office.

“ _Boa tarde_ ,” Noêmia said as she came in. She quickly kissed both of Luzia’s cheeks and smiled at Yuuri. Noêmia was about 5’4, tortilla colored, and had brown, wavy hair that came to her mid-back. She usually kept it in a large bun gathered at the nape of her neck. Luzia got up and sat next to Yuuri. Noêmia took Luzia’s place at the computer. “So, we are all gathered here today about Yuuri’s hallucinations, yes?” Luzia nodded. She gently signaled for Yuuri to nod. “Yuuri, you’re not on any antipsychotics, right?”

“No,” Yuuri said.

  
“Just Remeron, Luvox, and Xanax?” Yuuri nodded. “Okay, I’ve been thinking about this since your coach emailed Dr. Sá and me, and I would like to start you on an antipsychotic. Combined with your medical history, I feel that this would help to alleviate several of your issues.” Luzia nodded. “Are you okay with taking another medicine?” Yuuri nodded. “Dr. Sá, may I log you out?”

“Of course, Dr. Souza,” Luzia said. Noêmia logged Luzia out and logged in to her account.

“I would like to start you on 7.5mg of Zyprexa. It’s not the lowest dose possible, but it should be enough. And, if it doesn’t work, we can always raise it.” Yuuri and Luzia nodded. “I will warn you right now that Zyprexa has a sedating effect so you _may_ feel more tired than usual. It might also make you feel hungrier than usual. Since you’ll likely be eating a lot more because of it, I highly suggest that you see your primary care physician more often to monitor your cholesterol and A1C levels.” Yuuri nodded. “Yuuri?”

“Yes, Dr. Souza?”

“I’m also going to need you to start seeing me every other week.” Yuuri nodded. "This is to monitor how the medicine is going. And it's necessary that you come to see me, or else I will be forced to call the mobile crisis unit." Yuuri took a deep breath. “So you must keep your appointments. Okay?”

“Yes, Dr. Souza,” Yuuri said.

“Great! So I’ll see you next week.” Yuuri looked at Noêmia. “We have an appointment next week. Don’t you remember?”

“No,” Yuuri said.

“Please check your appointment sheet when you go to schedule your next appointment with Dr. Sá.” Yuuri nodded. “So, how are your classes going?” Noêmia asked when she waited for the computer to respond to her keyboard commands.

“They’re going well enough, I guess,” Yuuri said.

“Have you spoken to anyone new?” Luzia asked. Yuuri nodded. “Great! I’m proud of you!” Yuuri sweetly smiled. Even after years of being Luzia’s patient, they still felt that warm feeling when she would say that she’s proud of them. It was a nice feeling; Yuuri could probably thrive off of this feeling forever. “What did you talk about with this person?”

“I told him he had nice hair,” Yuuri said. Luzia nodded. “And he gave me his number.” Luzia made a face. “He didn’t give me his number after I complimented him… But he did give me his number after I complimented him.”

“Was this at a later date?” Noêmia asked as her fingers hit the letters on the keyboard.

“Yes!”

“Oh, okay,” Luzia said. “What prompted this number exchange?”

“He suggested that we work on our art history assignments together,” Yuuri explained. Noêmia and Luzia nodded.

“And, like that, your prescription has been sent to your pharmacy,” Noêmia said. “Remember to pick it up. I would highly prefer it for you to pick it up today so you can start the Zyprexa tonight.” Yuuri nodded. “And I’m glad to hear that you’ve made a friend. Remember to check your appointment list.” Yuuri nodded again. “Now, pardon me, I think I have a patient waiting for me.”

“Didn’t you bring your beeper?” Noêmia scoffed at Luzia and excused herself. Luzia got up and returned to her seat and the session continued as usual. 

#

**(Tuesday, 22 September 2015 – 1:40pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

The session was long since over, and Yuuri got their carfare. They were waiting for the bus that would take them home. But then they remembered that they needed to get their medicine. They told themselves that they could ride the bus for two more stops, walk to the pharmacy, and walk home. The pharmacy that Yuuri and Phichit used wasn’t far from the apartment at all. Yuuri’s phone buzzed as they walked.

> Victor: Hey! Wyd ((heart emoji))

Yuuri stopped at their pharmacy. “Ah, hello!” Their pharmacist was Bengali. “I’m going to fill your prescription right now.” Yuuri nodded and sat in one of the seats provided.

> : I just came from my appointment. And yourself?
> 
> Victor: Oh, that explains why I didn’t see you today.
> 
> : Did you miss me?
> 
> Victor: Very much ((sparkling heart emoji))

Yuuri snickered.

> Victor: How was your appointment, солнышко?
> 
> : It was fine. My doctor told me to pick up my new medicine.

Yuuri paid no mind the small, Cyrillic text; they figured that it meant nothing. “How have you been?” Yuuri’s pharmacist came back to the front with Yuuri’s medicine.

“I’ve been fine,” Yuuri murmured and signed for their medicine. “I’ll see you later.” Yuuri’s pharmacist waved Yuuri off, and Yuuri walked home.

> Victor: Ooh, I hope your new medicine treats you kindly.
> 
> : Thank you very much.
> 
> : What are you doing?
> 
> Victor: Not in class.
> 
> Victor: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Victor: It’s me ((smiling emoji with a blush))

Victor sent a selfie of him in bed. He looked like he was relaxing; he happened to be topless. Yuuri snapped a quick flick of himself, looking unamused, and sent it to Victor.

> Victor: Look at голубушка ((sparkly heart emoji))
> 
> Victor: You’re coming to class tomorrow, right?
> 
> : Should be if I don’t die sometime between tonight and tomorrow morning.
> 
> Victor: Well, I hope that nothing unfortunate happens and that I see you tomorrow.

Yuuri placed their new medicine with the rest and laid down. Phichit is in his class, and Victor is at home, relaxing, and Yuuri wanted to do something.

“Well, I haven't drawn anything with my Wacom in a while,” Yuuri said. “So, I suppose I will draw with my Wacom.” Yuuri went to their dresser drawer and pulled out their Wacom. They sat back on their bed and started to draw a figure in motion. “Why haven’t I drawn in so long? I like drawing,” they muttered to themselves. Then they got their layers confused. “Oh, that’s why,” they murmured and continued to try and fix the layers.


	8. Non Te Ne Andare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Filler] Yuuri just falls asleep in the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naming these chapters is really hard because even my own notes are flawed so I hope you're okay with nothing making sense.

**(Wednesday, 23 September 2015 – 8:19am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was the first one to class again, and, despite their exhaustion, they were working on a sketch of Hasetsu Castle. Yuuri usually gets to art history class at around 7:45am because they’re bad at gauging the time it takes to get from their home to class. 

“Yuuri!” Victor pranced into the classroom and took his seat next to his new friend and future potential lover. “Ah, you’re alive,” Victor said, tongue-in-cheek. “I’m glad. I would’ve sorely missed you.” Victor leaned back in his desk. “Do you usually draw to pass the time?”

“Usually,” Yuuri said.

“Do you like it?”

“I like it enough to be a fine arts major,” Yuuri said and chuckled. The classroom slowly filled with students, but Victor made Yuuri feel like they were the only one in the room. Yuuri liked that feeling – feeling special to someone important. They had so few of those feelings in real life.

“Hello, class!” Professor cheerfully said as she came in the room – and on time. “I hope all of you did your written assignment for this week. I will be collecting them at the end of class.” Yuuri looked over at Victor and Victor deadpanned.

> : Did you do it?

Victor’s phone buzzed.

> Victor: I did, but…
> 
> Victor: I left it at home.
> 
> Victor: Whoops

Yuuri deadpanned.

> : Go to the library and print it!

Victor quickly got up and excused himself. The professor started the lecture, and Yuuri took notes. Victor came back twenty minutes later with his assignment and sat back down.

> Victor: Printed it.

Yuuri nodded and started paying attention to their sketch again.

#

**(Wednesday, 23 September 2015 – 11:00am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Ah! I’m so glad I avoided that unpleasant situation!” Victor said as he patted Yuuri’s back. “What class do you have next? Math, right?” Yuuri nodded. Victor kept his hand on Yuuri’s upper back. He wanted to slide his hand down lower and move closer and kiss them, but he restrained himself. “I’ll wait for you in our spot in the library.”

“You’re going to wait for me?” Yuuri incredulously asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Victor said with a smile. “See you after class, Yuuri.” Victor moved his hand off of Yuuri’s back. He ran his hand through Yuuri’s hair and lightly grazed the back of Yuuri’s neck and walked away. Yuuri was stunned silent. After they had realized that Victor was already gone from the hall, they awkwardly shuffled to class.

#

**(Wednesday, 23 September 2015 – 3:00pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri walked to the back of the library and found Victor sitting down, reading Petersburg. “Hey!” Victor loudly whispered. “You came back for me!” Victor smiled and winked. Yuuri sat at the opposite end of the sofa. “Why are you sitting so far?” Victor moved closer to Yuuri and turned towards them. “Don’t you like being with me?” Yuuri’s face turned rose red, and they covered their mouth. “Are you okay?”

“That was just a really complex question,” Yuuri murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“Does this make you uncomfortable? Do you need me to stop?” Victor asked. Yuuri remained silent. “Would you prefer it if I moved slower with the physical contact?” Yuuri nodded. “Alright! I’ll go slower!” Victor grinned; Yuuri smiled sweetly. He eased up on Yuuri. He took down his hair and finger-combed it. “How was your math class?”

“Deathly dull,” Yuuri said. “Plus, I wasn’t exactly paying attention today.”

“That’s not like you. You’re usually very sharp.”

“I’m just really out of it today,” Yuuri said. As per Noêmia suggested, they started the Zyprexa last night. “I’m so tired.” Victor nodded.

“Do you want to take a nap?” Victor asked. Yuuri nodded. “If you take a nap, will you be missing anything?” Yuuri shrugged. “What about your practice class?”

“I don’t want to go to practice today. I just want to sleep.” Victor nodded and bit his lip.

“You can lean on me if you want,” Victor said, a blush creeping upon his coconut white skin. “I’m going to touch your head now.” Victor brushed the hair out of Yuuri’s face. “Are you okay with leaning on me?” Yuuri nodded. Victor moved closer and allowed Yuuri’s head to rest on his chest. “Sleep well, sweet prince,” Victor said as he stroked Yuuri’s head gently and hummed.

#

**(Wednesday, 23 September 2015 – 5:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Victor was on his phone, texting Chris when Yuuri woke up. “You’re awake,” Victor said. He put his phone on the arm of the sofa. Yuuri’s head was in Victor’s lap because Victor couldn’t stand to see Yuuri look so uncomfortable while they slept. “How was your nap?” Yuuri shrugged and rubbed their eyes.

“You let me sleep on you?” Yuuri asked. Victor nodded and looked at Yuuri. “And you stayed here the entire time?” Victor nodded.

“I took a nap, too,” Victor said. “You look so cute when you snooze.” Yuuri blinked and felt their face get hot.

“Thank you?” Yuuri wasn’t sure of how they should react when being told that they look cute when they sleep. “I didn’t mean to keep you here for so long.”

“It’s fine. If I weren’t here, I would’ve been at home reading.” Victor’s phone buzzed. Yuuri looked at it and Victor. “It’s just Chris. He’ll live.” Victor smiled. His fingers gently grazed Yuuri’s face. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to practice tonight? I can walk you there.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go to bed.” Yuuri wanted to sit up, but they wanted to be here. Just a little bit longer. “I have a question, though.”

“Yes?”

“How come no one’s stopped you here?”

“What do you mean?” Victor asked.

“You’re _the_ Victor Nikiforov. I’d expect you to be getting stopped for autographs and pictures.”

“I haven’t been posting as much on Instagram,” Victor explained. Yuuri nodded. “Haven’t mentioned being in college, haven’t posted about our museum excursion, haven’t posted about… anything.”

“But what about Christophe?”

“Chris is flamboyant and brazen, but even he knows how to keep his mouth shut,” Victor said with a smile. “I’ll introduce you to him if I can convince him to come down here before the Grand Prix preliminaries. He’ll love you.” Victor stretched. “You should get home. I’ll walk you if you want.”

“It’s fine. It’s only a quarter to six.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri nodded. “Alright then. Text me when you get home.” Yuuri sat up, hating that they had to get up. Victor’s fingers lightly grazed Yuuri’s face as they pulled away to leave. Yuri took a deep breath and got away from Victor before they could physically expire.

#

**(Wednesday, 23 September 2015 – 6:42pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Phichit was working on dinner tonight. “Ah, you’re home!” Phichit stepped away from the stove to hug Yuuri. “I’m presuming you didn’t go to practice today.” Yuuri shook their head. Phichit walked back to the kitchen and Yuuri followed him. “Did your medicine make you feel bad?” Yuuri nodded. “Do you feel bad right now?” Yuuri shrugged. “Just go to bed.”

“What about dinner?”

“I haven’t even really started it. I can just eat something quick.”

“I feel bad, though.”

“Don’t feel bad. Just go to sleep.” Yuuri nodded and trudged to the room. They changed into their pajamas without showering and laid down. Then they remembered their medicine, got back up, took the Zyprexa dry, and laid back down.

> Victor: Are you home yet?
> 
> : Yeah. I’m in bed now.
> 
> Victor: Good! You need to get some sleep. You looked miserable today.
> 
> : I feel miserable right now.
> 
> Victor: Poor sleep will do that to you lol
> 
> Victor: I’ll let you sleep now. I’ll text you later.

And so Yuuri fell into a dead sleep.


	9. Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Filler] Honestly, nothing of note really happens aside from medicine making you feel like trash in this chapter so feel free to skip.

**(Thursday, 24 September 2015 – 10:28am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was barely awake, and they slept way past the time they were supposed to wake up for class. "Whatever," Yuuri murmured as they retreated further under the blankets. “It’s just a day of French,” they told themselves. Then Yuuri’s phone started ringing. “Hello?” Yuuri groggily said.

“Hey, mon trognon,” Phichit said. “Did you get out of bed today?”

“No,” Yuuri said. They rubbed their eyes and yawned. "I wanted to go to class today."

“I know,” Phichit sweetly said. “I tried waking you up, but you wouldn’t budge.” Yuuri yawned again. “I have a free spot right now. I can talk to you if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” Yuuri said they rubbed their eyes again. “I suppose I’ll just spend time with the hamsters today.”

“You’re not going to practice today, are you?”

“Probably not,” Yuuri murmured and rolled over.

“Mon poupée,” Phichit dotingly said.

“Quick question,” Yuuri said.

“Ask away.”

“Don’t you think you baby me? Maybe just a little bit?” Yuuri waited for him to respond but got silence. “Hello?”

“I’m still here,” Phichit said. After a few minutes, Phichit fixed their mouth to say this: "I wouldn't call it ‘babying.' You're my friend; your meds make you feel bad. I'm just trying to lessen the burden for you. You know?" Yuuri nodded. “I’m sure you would do the same for me. Right?”

“Right,” Yuuri said.

“I’ll let you sleep now. Love you, mon ami.”

“Love you, too,” Yuuri said and hung up the phone. They didn’t feel like lying in bed and being tired, and they wanted a change of pace, so they decided to lay on the _sofa_ and be exhausted. Yuuri laid there for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness. After flirting with hypnagogia for what seemed like forever, they turned on the television and watched children’s cartoons. They were watching reruns of The Wonder Pets and Oswald when their phone buzzed.

> Victor: I haven’t seen you at all today. Where are you?
> 
> : Home.
> 
> : I didn’t leave the apartment today. I don’t feel well.
> 
> Victor: Oh my. How do you feel right now?
> 
> : Drowsy.
> 
> Victor: Do you want me to call you?
> 
> : If you wish.

Victor stopped texting and called Yuuri. “Hey!”

“Hey,” Yuuri weakly and sleepily said.

"So you are home today," Victor said. Yuuri nodded, momentarily forgetting that the person on the other end wouldn’t see them nod. “What are you doing?”

“I’m watching cartoons,” Yuuri said. They shifted in their spot on the sofa.

“Couldn’t find the remote?” Victor asked with a chuckle.

“I know where the remote is,” Yuuri said. “I’m just watching cartoons.” Victor fell silent. “The Wonder Pets are on.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Victor said.

“Oh, well, let me tell you then,” Yuuri said, fighting a yawn. "It's a show about these preschool class pets, and they go on adventures and save baby animals that are caught in predicaments. They have a theme song, too. I like the theme song." Victor was silent. "It's quality programming. You learn about teamwork.”

“Do you like cartoons?”

“I do. Very much,” Yuuri said.

“I see.” Victor then asked, “What else do you watch?”

“Well, I –” Yuuri cut themself off. They closed their eye and let their phone rest on their face. “Never mind. You think I’m childish now, don’t you?”

“I don’t,” Victor said. Yuuri stayed silent.

After a while, Yuuri spoke up and asked: “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to the library now,” Victor said. “What are you watching?”

“Still The Wonder Pets,” Yuuri said. There was another lull in the conversation. “We should watch cartoons together. That might be fun.”

“We should,” Victor said. “It’d be fun.” Yuuri nodded. “Well, I hope I didn’t disturb your viewing. I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said.

“Feel better, _голубушка_ ,” Victor said sweetly.

“I’ll try,” Yuuri said and hung up the phone. Yuuri continued to watch The Wonder Pets. They placed their phone on the arm of the sofa and watched their cartoons uninterrupted. Then they thought about who was going to make dinner tonight or if they were going to eat their leftovers. They reached for their phone and opened iMessage. 

> : Are we eating our leftovers tonight?
> 
> Phichit: That is the plan.
> 
> Phichit: Unless you’re in the mood to cook.
> 
> : No. I was just asking.
> 
> Phichit: How do you feel? I’m in class rn, and I’m sleepy.
> 
> : Put your head down and say that you’re sick.
> 
> Phichit: I can’t do that in my chemistry lab.
> 
> : Sure you can. That hasn't stopped me.
> 
> Phichit: Is that why you only got a B in that class?
> 
> : WOW. RUDE.
> 
> Phichit: ((laughing crying emoji))

Yuuri put their phone to sleep and curled up into a ball on the sofa.

#

**(Thursday, 24 September 2015 – 4:47pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Phichit came through the door and closed it gently so that the mechanism makes a gentle “tchk” sound. Yuuri was wide awake now, continuing their drawing of Hasetsu Castle. “Oh, you’re awake!” Yuuri nodded and looked at Phichit.

“Just came to drop off your books?” Phichit nodded. “Can you tell Ciao Ciao that I’m not coming today?”

“Of course,” Phichit said. He slid into the available spot by Yuuri. “Drawing?” Yuuri nodded. Phichit was observing them as they drew; Yuuri wasn’t as bothered by it when Phichit watches them do things. “So, how was your day?”

“I spent most of it watching cartoons and sleeping. You?”

“Aside from being worried about you, it was okay. I kind of understand what’s going on in chemistry. That may change, though. It seems like it’s going to be hell.”

“Yeah, science is like that,” Yuuri said as they started to draw a sliding door. “I think math is worse, though.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Phichit said. "You struggled with calculus."

“Calculus is difficult, okay,” Yuuri said. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re going to do just fine in chemistry. Just go to tutoring.”

“ _You_ can tutor me,” Phichit suggested.

“I only got a B+,” Yuuri said.

“It’s still a good grade.”

“It’s not an A, though,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t care as long as I get above a C.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Please? I love you.” Yuuri broke; they had to concede to Phichit. 

“Fine,” Yuuri muttered. “I suppose I can help you with chemistry.” Phichit grinned and squeezed Yuuri tight. They tried to squirm away, but Phichit just held on tighter. “Don’t you have to get to practice?”

“I will,” Phichit said. He kissed Yuuri’s cheek. “I’ll text you when I get there. Feel better, love.”

“I’ll try,” Yuuri said. And, like that, Phichit was gone.


	10. Closer to God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another museum date. Events get released. Panic attacks are had. 
> 
> Oh, and rowdy drunk Yuuri. Our favorite kind of Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fifty more chapters to go. Let's get it on.

**(Friday, 25 September 2015 – 4:20am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri awoke to their phone ringing. They groggily reached over their head for their phone. “Hello?” Yuuri sleepily said.

“Hello,” Victor’s voice said. Yuuri rubbed their eyes. What could they possibly want at this hour? “We’re still on for the museum today, right?”

“Sure,” Yuuri said, trying to fight a yawn.

“Are you still up for it? I know you’re not feeling well.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yuuri said. “Now, go to bed.”

“Same to you,” Victor said. “Good morning, голубушка.”

“Good morning or whatever,” Yuuri said. They ended the call and buried their face in their pillow.

#

**(Friday, 25 September 2015 – 1:25pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was waiting outside of the deli for Victor. They were feeling much better compared to the last few days, but they still felt that agonizing drowsiness that would make it challenging to keep your head up and eyes open. Phichit picked out their clothes again this week. This week, they were wearing black dress pants, a pair of Docs, and this shirt that was black and gold in the torso and white in the collar and sleeves. Phichit, like Yuuri, is extra in a very unique way.

“Yuuri!” Victor approached Yuuri from the left. Victor was wearing a pair of jeans, Air Force Ones, a navy-blue hoodie, and a sky-blue Lacoste polo.

“You’re not late this time,” Yuuri casually said. Victor deadpanned. “You are, in fact, right on time.”

“And you’re actually awake.” Yuuri nodded.

“Are we going to the same museum today?” Yuuri asked. Victor nodded. “We’re going to look at different exhibits today, right?” Victor nodded again.

"I should've told you this last week, but there are different collections." Victor took out his phone and went to the museum's website. Then he gave his phone to Yuuri. “See? So if there's a collection you want to see–”

“The African art one looks interesting.”

“Just the African art one? It's part of a bigger collection.”

“We can see the other ones in the collection next week,” Yuuri suggested. They didn't try to fix their sentence or offer an explanation. After all, this is the second outing they've had with Victor. Why wouldn't they expect subsequent ones? Victor smiled.

“You're right. Let's go!” Yuuri and Victor walked side by side to the museum and made uncomfortably one-sided conversation along the way.

#

**(Friday, 25 September 2015 – 3:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Their museum excursion was a success, and they were in the local café. Victor had a large coffee, and Yuuri had gotten a strawberry and crème Frappuccino. Neither of them was saying much; however, Yuuri seemed to be the more pensive one.

“Are you okay?” Victor asked.

“Are you?”

“I’m fine. You’re the wound up one,” Victor said. Yuuri looked away from him; Victor tentatively grabbed their hand. Victor desperately wanted to say something that would simultaneously calm them down and wind them up even more but refrained. Yuuri looked down at their hands.

“I need to be excused,” Yuuri blurted out and dashed off in the direction of the bathroom. They went into a stall and sat on the toilet’s water tank. They reached into their pocket and took out their pill case. Their pill case was in the shape of a macaron, and Phichit had gotten it for them at an open-air market. Their breathing was ragged, and they were trembling. “Come on. Not today, not today,” they told themselves. Their hands shook even more as they tried to take the half bar out of the pill case. In their trembling, they didn't notice the half bar fall into the toilet. Yuuri looked at their fingers and into the bowl of the toilet. “Shit,” they said. They sighed and took deep breaths. They lost the one relief they could have at that moment. They closed their eyes and tried to breathe. Then their phone buzzed.

> Victor: Are you okay in there?
> 
> : I’m fine.
> 
> Victor: Then come out.

Yuuri gathered the strength to leave the stall, but not after a bout of quasi-positive self-talk.

“There you are,” Victor said. “I was getting worried.” Yuuri sat down in front of their Frappuccino and took a sip. Victor placed his hand over Yuuri’s. “I just realized that I didn’t ask you what your favorite part of the museum was today.”

“I liked the Owo bracelet,” Yuuri said. “What was your favorite?”

“I like the Kongo funerary statue,” Victor said before they took a sip of coffee. “It’s either that or the Asante soul-washer badge thing.” Yuuri nodded. “I won’t get points deducted for writing more than she wants, would I?”

“I don’t think so,” Yuuri said. “If it turns out she does deduct for going over, you can just write about the other one next week.” Victor nodded. Then Victor’s phone buzzed. “Is that Christophe?”

“It is, but why not just call him ‘Chris’?”

“I don’t know him well enough to call him Chris,” Yuuri explained. Victor chuckled. "I'm serious."

“I’m sure you are,” Victor said. He looked down at his coffee. “So, why the African collection?” Yuuri looked down at the hand that was shaking under Victor’s.

"Well, there's this group of girls that I know, and they're all Afro-Caribbean," Yuuri said. “They like to talk about the motherland when they're not busy partying. They're charming."

“You party?” Victor incredulously asked.

“Only when my roommate is in the mood to,” Yuuri said. "He's small and sweet, but he's also a voracious party animal – which doesn't make sense because he doesn't do too much at them. But yeah. That's that."

“And it hasn’t rubbed off on you?”

“Oh no, no,” Yuuri said and took a sip of their Frappuccino. They kept their gaze downward. Then they yawned.

“Tired?”

“No, just weary,” Yuuri said.

“There’s a difference?”

“A huge one.” Yuuri took another sip of their Frappuccino. "‘Weary' would denote mental or existential tiredness while ‘tired' would denote a physical one. Or a mental or existential one to a lesser degree." Yuuri took another sip of their Frappuccino. “Aren’t you the English major here?” Victor chuckled.

“I am the English major,” Victor said before he took a sip of coffee. Then he reached over and poked Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri looked upward and relished how his finger felt on him. “You look like you’re in thought.”

“I think I am,” Yuuri said. Then their phone buzzed. “Sorry.” Victor removed his finger from Yuuri’s forehead to allow them to take out their phone.

#

To: Yuuri Katsuki

Date: September 25, 2015 – 4:00pm

Subject: Medicine and Skating

Body: Yuuri,

Dr. Sá and Dr. Souza have both been in contact with me regarding your medicine. I hope you are taking them as directed and they are beneficial to you. If so, please let me know; if not, please also let me know so I can talk to your doctors and have them work something else out with you.

Also, I am notifying you to let you know that the Grand Prix prelim events have been announced. You are skating in the Rostelecom Cup and the Trophée Éric Bompard. I will follow up this email with the details of it.

Please call me as soon as you receive my email. We have to talk about this as quickly as possible.

  
Best,

Celestino Cialdini

#

Yuuri went to their texts to text Coach Cialdini.

> : I can’t call right now because I’m out with someone.
> 
> Ciao Ciao: Call me still.
> 
> : I will. Once I’m done being out with someone.

When Yuuri looked up at Victor, he was checking his phone, too.

“It was my coach,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “He wanted to tell me that the event lineups were released.”

“What events did you get?” Yuuri asked Victor.

“Skate Canada and NHK Trophy,” Victor said. He reached into his pocket and took out two notes. He placed them in Yuuri’s hand.

“Are you happy with the lineup?”

“I’d prefer the Rostelecom Cup and the Trophée Éric Bompard, but I’ll live,” Victor said. “Was your notification important?” Yuuri nodded. They took a sip of their Frappuccino. The anxiety was kicking in again, and Yuuri wanted to focus on something that wasn’t Grand Prix or Victor Nikiforov related.

#

To: Laura Heiner, Gary Horn, Michael Stafford, Minerva Mirabella, Yvette Faucheux

Time: September 25, 2015 – 5:09pm

Subject: Absences

Body: Hello,

I am emailing you all to make you aware that I will be unable to fully attend classes some days in November and December because I will be participating in the Rostelecom Cup and the Trophée Éric Bompard. I am requesting that you send me any classwork and homework assignments that you will assign to the class.

Should you have any questions about my participation in these events, I suggest that you contact my coach, Celestino Cialdini, at (518) 555-0182 and at ccialdini@gmail.com.

Best,

Yuuri Katsuki

#

To: Laura Heiner, Camilla Marola, Marvin Stosh, Mia Lee, Sarah Trotman

Time: September 25, 2015 – 5:43pm

Subject: Events

Body: Hello, all!

I am going to be participating in Skate Canada and the NHK Trophy (and, eventually, the Grand Prix) in the October to December. This email is to serve as a notification of my absence from class during that duration of time and as a request for any and all classwork you will assign.

Regards,

Victor Nikiforov

#

**(Friday, 25 September 2015 – 11:37pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“I can’t believe it! You’re going to the Grand Prix!” Phichit exclaimed as he struggled to open a bottle of apple cider. “This is so exciting! I’m so excited!” Yuuri took the bottle from Phichit and opened it. “Thank you,” he quickly said as Yuuri passed the bottle back to him. “Be excited with me!”

“I am excited. Just give me a bit.” Yuuri weakly smiled and took a few breaths. “Also, it’s not set in stone that I’m going to the Grand Prix. I’ve just been selected for two events that, if I do well, will _take_ me to the Grand Prix.”

“So you’re going to the Grand Prix,” Phichit said with a grin. Yuuri rinsed out two glasses for them. “Yuuri, mon trognon, you are going to do great, and you're going to get a medal. I can't tell you that it'll be a gold medal, but it's going to be a medal."

"Yeah, it won't be gold. Victor's getting that." Yuuri put ice in the glasses and gave them to Phichit. Phichit poured apple cider for them. They clinked glasses and drank. "But thank you for believing in me."

“I’m here to believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself,” Phichit said. Yuuri smiled at their number one cheerleader. “Oh! We should tell your family!” Phichit damn near dropped his cider. “Get your laptop! Let’s call your parents!”

“Let me tell Mari to get Mom and Dad,” Yuuri said. Phichit took Yuuri's drink from them as they went to get their laptop. He placed their glasses on the coffee table and straightened up the living room. He didn't often get the chance to speak to Yuuri’s parents, but he didn’t want them to think that they live in a pigsty.

> : Mari, get Mom and Dad.
> 
> Mari: Hm?
> 
> : I have news for them.
> 
> Mari: Did you finally find a girl?
> 
> : No, I have real news.
> 
> Mari: You’re acting like that isn’t real news.
> 
> : Mari!
> 
> : Just get Mom and Dad!
> 
> : Please!
> 
> : I have a significant announcement, and I need to tell all of you about it!
> 
> Mari: Okay, okay, I’ll get them. Calm yourself.
> 
> : Thank you.

Yuuri grabbed their laptop and brought it into the living room. Phichit finished straightening up the living room and sat next to Yuuri.

“Did you text Mari?” Yuuri nodded. “Is she getting your parents?” Yuuri nodded. They took a sip of their cider. “Are you ready?”

“Let me ask Mari,” Yuuri said.

> : Are you ready?
> 
> Mari: Ready when you are.

Yuuri called Mari from their laptop. Hiroko and Toshiya were dressed and looking bright. “ _Hello, Yuuri!_ ” Yuuri’s mother exclaimed. “ _How have you been?_ ”

“ _I’ve been okay, Mom,_ ” Yuuri said with an embarrassed smile.

“ _How have you been, Phichit?_ ” Hiroko asked.

“ _I’ve been fine, Hiroko-san,_ ” Phichit said with a smile.

“ _Mari tells us you have furiously important news to tell us,_ ” Toshiya said. Phichit smiled and waved. “ _Hello, Phichit. It is very nice to see you._ ” Phichit smiled harder.

“Oh, Phichit, do you need me to translate?” Phichit shook their head. “Okay, then. I’ll just explain later.”

“You don’t have to,” Phichit said. “I know enough Japanese to understand your parents.” Yuuri smiled.

“ _Right, anyway!_ ” Yuuri said as they clasped their hands together. Toshiya winced when they heard Yuuri’s voice. “ _I have news._ ” Hiroko motioned for Yuuri to continue, a massive smile on her face.

“ _Yuuri’s going to the Grand Prix!_ ” Phichit yelled. Toshiya winced again. Mari and Hiroko cheered.

“ _Wait, no! Not quite! Not yet!_ ” Yuuri took a deep breath. The cheering died down. “ _Not quite. I’m in the preliminary events to **go** to the Grand Prix._” Yuuri took a sip of their cider. “ _So, if everything goes well, I will be going to the Grand Prix._ ”

“ _We are so proud of you, Yuuri!_ ” Hiroko said. Mari looked at their father. He was as stoic as ever. “ _Aren’t we proud, Toshiya?_ ”

“ _We are always proud of you, Yuuri,_ ” Yuuri’s father said with a straight face. But then he smiled; then Yuuri smiled. “ _Aren’t we proud of your brother, Mari?_ ”

“ _You two are so proud of him that you named the katsudon bowl after him,_ ” Mari said with a straight face. Then she laughed. “ _Oh, that is never going to get old!_ ”

“ _Ah, we have to tell Minako as soon as possible!_ ” Hiroko said. “ _And, Mari, be sure to tell Yuko and Takeshi._ ” Mari looked down at her phone.

“ _Oh, they already know,_ ” Mari said.

“ _They’re going to be so excited! We’re so happy!_ ” Hiroko wiped her eyes and smiled. “ _My baby boy’s going to the Grand Prix._ ” She wiped her eyes again. “ _Otherwise, how have you been, Yuuri?_ ” Yuuri and Hiroko made light conversation back and forth until Mari interrupted them to tell them that Minako is overjoyed for Yuuri. She also made them aware of the fact that Yuko’s daughters are also thrilled. Yuuri forgot that she already had children. Phichit kindly ended the FaceTime call between them and the Katsuki family in Japan.

“Yuuri?” Phichit asked. They started to snap their fingers in front of Yuuri’s eyes. “Yuuri, snap out of it.” Yuuri broke out into laughter and slid onto the floor. “Oh no, you broke.”

“I forgot Yuko had children,” Yuuri said in between fits of laughter. “How terrible of a friend am I to forget such a big fact?” Yuuri laid sprawled out on the floor.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Yuuri chuckled. “Is that a yes?” Yuuri made a quasi-nodding gesture. “Good.”

“How much of my parents did you understand?”

“Enough to get the gist of the conversation,” Phichit said. He took a sip of his cider. “They named a dish after you.” Yuuri screeched. “Okay, calm down now, ma poupée.” Phichit was cackling.

“My parents are so proud of me that they’ve named a dish after me,” Yuuri said, absentmindedly. “That’s going to be _super_ embarrassing when I go back to Hasetsu.” Yuuri rolled on their side and reached for their glass.

“Have you told Victor the news?” Yuuri sat up and took a sip of cider. “I mean, does Victor know?” Yuuri shook their head. “You haven’t told him?”

“No,” Yuuri said. Phichit got on the floor with Yuuri, and they laced their legs together. "I don't really know if I should tell him. I mean, I'm going to be competing against him. That is to say, I _will_ be if I go to the Grand Prix.”

“Why do you have to keep saying ‘if’? You’re going to go! I believe in you!”

“Of course my cheerleader is going to say that,” Yuuri admonished. “I’m going to miss you so much next month.”

“Your events aren’t until November,” Phichit said.

“But I’ll be doing a lot more and for longer, and I won’t be able to see you as much.”

“We live together.”

“Can’t I be touching for once?” Yuuri asked. They chuckled and took another sip of their cider. “So, what do you think I should do?” Yuuri asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Phichit said with an apologetic shrug. “But I can say that if he doesn’t know now, he probably won’t put two and two together until the Grand Prix.”

“Why ‘until’?”

“Think about it: He’s going to be so focused on practicing his routines that he won’t be able to focus on much else. Once he gets to the Grand Prix, he’ll have more time to focus on what he’s been ignoring.”

“That was really astute, Phichit,” Yuuri said in admiration.

“Thanks! I took a psych class in my first semester,” Phichit said. Yuuri smiled. “Oh! How was your museum outing today?”

“Had a mild panic attack and dropped my Xanax in the toilet.” Phichit looked at Yuuri. They shrugged. “Victor touched me again.”

“Just fuck him already,” Phichit said.

“I will,” Yuuri said. Phichit nudged Yuuri’s ribs and laughed. “You think I’m joking, don’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” Yuuri shrugged. “Look, were you being serious or not?”

"Depends on if he wants to because then I'm very serious," Yuuri said.

“So, are you being serious?” Yuuri shrugged. “You’re hopeless.” Phichit took a sip of his cider.

And they sat there talking and doing nothing.

#

**(Saturday, 26 September 2015 – 1:54am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Except that they didn’t just do nothing. Phichit wanted to get toed up. “Let’s invite Victor over,” Yuuri slurred after their sixth shot of strawberry vodka.

“Yuuri, no, you’re drunk,” Phichit chastised. He somehow managed to weasel his way out of the shot game Yuuri was playing by themselves.

“But I wanna f–” Phichit threw Yuuri’s pillow at them. “Ow!”

“That didn’t hurt,” Phichit said as he nursed his rum and coke.

“But I wanna–”

“How about we invite Masabeeh and Tal’at over?” Phichit suggested, trying to get Yuuri’s mind off of the silver-haired demigod.

“They’re Muslim,” Yuuri slurred. “Muslims don’t drink.”

“How about Camille then?”

“They’re visiting their brother,” Yuuri slurred.

“Khoudia, maybe?”

"It's late, and Khoudia's mom doesn't let them go out, and Muslims don't drink,” Yuuri whined. “I want Victor.”

“How about Ketty, then?”

“I _said_ that I want Victor,” Yuuri whined.

“I know, but isn’t it kind of… you know… trashy to fuck someone you’ve only known for going on three weeks?” Yuuri made an incoherent garbling sound and took another shot. “Maybe also lay off the shots?” Yuuri took another shot to spite Phichit. “I don’t know why I expected you to listen to that.” Yuuri took another shot. “Are you still playing the drinking game, or are you only taking shots to be petty?”

“Both,” Yuuri said. “Call Victor right now.”

“Yuuri, _no_ ,” Phichit said. They took their phone from them and put it under their sofa cushion. “You can’t fuck Victor right now.”

“Okay, so tomorrow then,” Yuuri said. They took another shot. “Give me my phone.”

“No,” Phichit sternly said.

“I just want to tell Victor that I love him and that he should come –”

“No,” Phichit said.

“In my face,” Yuuri completed their statement. Phichit looked at them, bemused. “I’ll grapefruit his fine ass, too.”

“Is this some weird hoe thing you and Khoudia won’t tell me about?” Phichit asked. Yuuri took another shot. “Please stop taking shots.”

“Nah,” Yuuri said as they poured another shot. Phichit snatched the bottle of vodka from Yuuri and finished it despite not liking vodka. Phichit also finished the shot. “You _do_ know we have rum, right?”

"That is the emergency rum, and you can’t have it,” Phichit said. Yuuri rolled their eyes and felt themselves mentally falling backward. “You’re drunk. Go to bed.”

“But I want Victor,” Yuuri whined.

“You’re going to see him on Wednesday,” Phichit said.

“ _No, but I want him right now_ ,” Yuuri said in Japanese as they slurred their words.

“You can’t _have_ him right now,” Phichit said in English. Yuuri got up and staggered. They walked towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find Victor’s apartment and fuck him until his lungs ache,” Yuuri said with sheer determination.

“You can’t,” Phichit said. “You don’t know where he lives.”

“I’m going to find him,” Yuuri said. They grabbed their keys off of the hook they had by the door. Yuuri unlocked the door.

“Yuuri, no,” Phichit said. He leaped up and dragged Yuuri away from the door. “Just go to bed.”

“But I want –”

“I know, but not right now. Not while you’re drunk.” Phichit wrapped his arms around Yuuri. “Wouldn’t it be so much more satisfying when you’re both more comfortable with each other, and you're in love?"

“In theory, yes,” Yuuri said. "But you can also have sex without an emotional attachment to the other party, so your point is moot."

“But wouldn’t it be so much more enriching if you _did_ have an emotional attachment to him?”

“I love him. He thinks I’m sweet. He’s held my hand. We can fuck now.”

“You’re hopeless,” Phichit said with a sigh. “Look, just go to bed. You’re drunk.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri said as they straightened up.

“Yes?”

“Fuck me.”

“No.”

“Then I’m going to fuck Victor,” Yuuri said as they reached for the doorknob again. Phichit tried his damnedest to pull Yuuri away from the door.

“No, you’re not,” Phichit said. “I refuse to allow you to hoe out.”

“Then I'm going to loudly scream Closer until you let me,” Yuuri said.

“And you can do that all night. Because I’m not going to let you be a hoe tonight.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and felt that sensation again. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t the most pleasant sensation to feel when you’re trying to focus on one thing. “Second thought.”

“Yes?”

“Carry me to bed,” Yuuri said.

“We both know that I can’t lift you,” Phichit said. “Just walk to bed.” Phichit let go of Yuuri and locked the door. Yuuri walked to the sofa; Phichit intercepted them. “Forget your phone. Just go to bed.” Yuuri complied. They went into the bedroom and grabbed their laptop. They went to iMessage and went to their messages with Victor… Least they thought it was Victor. They decided to shoot their drunken shot.

> : So messed up and I want you here
> 
> : You can have my absence of faith
> 
> You can have my everything
> 
> : Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot I’m gonna cum all on you
> 
> Khoudia:
> 
>   1. None of those songs are even closely related to each other, so you’re already doing it wrong
>   2. Nigga you drunk go to bed
> 

> 
> : Khoudia???
> 
> Khoudia: Yeah it’s me hoe
> 
> Khoudia: Now go to bed and sleep off the alcohol because you’re drunk and can’t read

Yuuri closed their laptop and put it under their pillow. Yikes, that was embarrassing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was most definitely not sober when I wrote the end of this chapter.


	11. All Lined Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri goes to get psychoanalyzed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta reader is busy dragging my Spanish and side-eyeing me for saying I have a plan for a thing.

**(Tuesday, 28 September 2015 – 1:00pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was seeing their therapist today. They’ve been feeling on edge since the event lineups were released. That, and they realized that they accidentally propositioned Khoudia. Yuuri didn’t even know what they were talking about, but, regardless, Luzia would be very intrigued by both of these stories. She wasn’t very well-versed in the figure skating world nor does she know that Yuuri’s been drinking again. Luzia had advised them not to do that because of their medicine and because they can get particularly rowdy when they’re drinking. 

“Yuuri?” Yuuri looked over at where Luzia’s voice came from. Today she came out wearing an orange maxi skirt and a yellow tank top. Yuuri thought that she would be lovely to bees. They got up from their seat and followed Luzia to her office. “How was your weekend?” 

“It was okay, I guess,” Yuuri said. “I think.”

“You think?” Luzia asked. She took a sip of water and set her bottle aside. “What happened?”

“There are actually three things,” Yuuri said. Luzia nodded. “Thing one: The event lineups for the Grand Prix preliminaries were released.” Luzia nodded despite their confusion. “I got my events.”

“Yuuri, that’s great!” She was beaming.

“It is! Except that it _won’t_ be if I go to the Grand Prix.” Yuuri didn’t wait for Luzia to say anything. “There is no doubt in my mind that Victor will be going to the Grand Prix this year. And that’s going to be a problem if I go this year.”

“Do you know for certain that you’ll be going?” Yuuri shook their head. “Then you can’t say if it’s going to be a problem, right?” Yuuri nodded.

“Well, that leads into why I’m confused. Should I tell Victor that I’m competing this year?”

“What’s the other part of your confusion?”

“Victor touched me,” Yuuri said. Luzia nodded. “Which topic do you want to tackle first?”

“Whichever one you’re more comfortable with, _fofo_ ,” Luzia sweetly said.

“I guess my lack of understanding on how I feel about Victor holding my hand,” Yuuri said. Luzia nodded. “We talked about my touch boundaries last week. Then he let me sleep on him.”

“Was this right after you discussed boundaries?” Yuuri nodded. “Continue.”

After a silence, Yuuri opened their mouth: “I think I’m going to end up fucking him and hating myself after it.”

“Why would you hate yourself?” Luzia asked. “Sex is a beautiful thing when you’re in love with the person you’re sleeping with.” Yuuri looked down at their hands. “It’s intimate and warm and loving. And you love him.”

“What if he doesn’t love me? What would it be then?” Luzia made a face.

“Sex is still beautiful,” Luzia said. “I don’t know how much more I can say without being biased, but it can still be beautiful even though it’s hurtful to know that the person you’re with doesn’t love you back. My suggestion is that – if you do end up sleeping with him and it turns out he doesn’t care for you – to try not to take it so personally. You’re going to be great for someone one day.”

“And that someone doesn’t have to be him?” Yuuri asked.

“No,” Luzia said. “You can even be great for yourself. That’s an acceptable thing.” Luzia reached out and grabbed Yuuri’s hand. “You can be great for yourself, too.”

“I suppose so,” Yuuri mumbled. “Can we make a pros and cons chart? I would like more clarity about telling Victor I’m a skater, too.”

“We can most definitely make a pro and cons chart,” Luzia said. She reached into her printer and took out a few sheets of paper. She grabbed her bright green pen and divided up the paper into two sections, writing “pros” on one side and “cons” on the other. Yuuri and Luzia completed the chart with “pros” outweighing the “cons.” Yuuri asked to keep the chart for future reference, and Luzia gladly let them have it. 

The session went on until it was over. Yuuri was able to tell Luzia all about a few more things and show her some more pictures of Vicchan.

#

**(Tuesday, 28 September 2015 – 6:23pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was making spaghetti for dinner tonight. They were thinking about what happened in session today; mainly about telling Victor about skating. They had the pros and cons list in the small pouch in their bag, where it will probably never see the light of day until Yuuri gets ready to clean out their bag. Phichit was on his way home when Victor texted them.

> Victor: Did you have an appointment today?
> 
> : Yeah.
> 
> Victor: How was it?
> 
> : It was an appointment.
> 
> : Can’t talk right now. I’m making dinner.

Phichit was home soon after that. “Poupée,” Phichit said as he hugged Yuuri. He left the kitchen to put down his things and came back. “How was your day?” Yuuri shrugged. “Did you go to French? Did you see Luzia?” Yuuri nodded. “And how is she?”

“She’s fine,” Yuuri said. “How was your day?” And Phichit started talking about his day, his professors, and the people he talked to. He was so enthusiastic about everything that happened today, Yuuri almost wished that they could share the same enthusiasm. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the light of the Caucasus falls on your body  
> as in an endless little vessel  
> in which the water is changed from dress and song  
> to every transparent movement of the river.


	12. Goosebumps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gay shit and sweet green curry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get those goosebumps every time  
> I need the Heimlich

**(Wednesday, 29 September 2015 – 8:07am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was drawing Vicchan to pass the time between their arrival to class and their professor’s arrival.

“Ah, Yuuri!” Victor said as he came into the room. There were only three other people in there – excluding Victor and Yuuri, that is. They looked at Yuuri. “How are you?” Yuuri shrugged. “What are you drawing today?”

“I’m drawing my dog,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. “I am not very good at drawing animals, to be honest.”

“What do you usually draw?”

“I draw whatever my heart feels like drawing,” Yuuri said. “Today? My dog. Tomorrow? Who knows.” Yuuri started working on Vicchan’s ears.

“You know what you should draw next?” Yuuri blanked out and internally rolled their eyes when they heard that. Victor told them what they should draw next, and Yuuri didn’t hear any of it. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I’ll get to it,” Yuuri said as they erased something. Victor grinned. “Didn’t I say that I don’t like being watched when I draw?”

“I don’t know. Did you?” Yuuri stopped erasing and looked at Victor. “You did, you did,” Victor said as he patted Yuuri’s shoulder. He let his hand linger there.

“And you’re going to continue watching me draw, aren’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a hoe for art.” Yuuri chuckled. They were still anxious about being watched, though. They wanted to be able to allow Victor to watch them draw. Victor squeezed Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Could you kindly not?” Victor withdrew his hand from Yuuri’s shoulder but moved his desk closer. Two of the students in the room looked over at them. Yuuri’s face turned a salmon pink color.

“Are you okay?” Victor asked. Yuuri nodded. They started to focus on their sketch of Vicchan again. While Victor concentrated on Yuuri, and while Yuuri was focusing on their drawing, the classroom was filling up with their peers.

“Hello, class!” Professor Heiner said as she came in. It was 8:35am now. Yuuri stopped drawing and took out their assignment. Yuuri could only assume that – by the motions Victor made – he remembered to grab his homework this morning. Then Victor reached into his bag again and slid a note across Yuuri’s desk. Yuuri looked at the note and pocketed it for later even though they can’t read it. 

#

**(Wednesday, 29 September 2015 – 11:15am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Professor Heiner let the class out early today, so Victor followed Yuuri to the library. Yuuri usually goes to the library because they value the silence. A silence that they don’t think they’ll be getting any more. Victor sat next to Yuuri and paid partial attention to his book.

“How’s your math class going?” Victor asked. Yuuri shrugged. “Oh.”

“How are your other classes?” Yuuri asked. Victor launched into a spiel about his classes. He seems like he’s enjoying them. And Yuuri absentmindedly pointed that out.

“You don’t talk about yourself too much,” Victor said.

“I know,” Yuuri said.

“I’m interested in getting to know the person you are underneath all of the silence,” Victor said. Yuuri was still working on their drawing of Vicchan. “I bet that person is a real riot.” Yuuri shrugged. “Yes? No?” Victor leaned on Yuuri; Yuuri stopped drawing. “Am I disturbing you?”

“You’re fine,” Yuuri said.

“Do you have to go now?” Victor asked, clutching Yuuri’s arm as he gently stroked their face. Yuuri shook their head. “Good. I would like to be with you for a little bit longer.” Yuuri put their things away and leaned on Victor a bit. Victor’s hand moved down Yuuri’s forearm and clasped Yuuri’s hand. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Why are we like this?”

“What do you mean?” Victor asked.

“Why… I don’t know. I should go. To class. I have class I mean,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. “You can walk me to class if you want.”

“I will if you promise to come to come back for me,” Victor said. “Will you come back?” Victor gently stroked Yuuri’s face with his free hand. Yuuri nodded, stunned that Victor was so brazen. “Good. I await your return.” Victor let go of Yuuri so they can put their things in their bag. After Yuuri was done, Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand, and he walked them to their math class. “I’ll see you later,” Victor said as he unwillingly let go of Yuuri’s hand.

“Later,” Yuuri said.

#

**(Wednesday, 29 September 2015 – 7:35pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri’s skating was interrupted by the shadows again; this time, however, they had a panic attack following it. Victor dropped them off today. Yuuri had suggested that Victor go and practice, but Victor insisted that he wasn’t in the mood to practice. Victor had told Yuuri to text him when they were over with practice.

Yuuri had forgotten to do that, but they were home now.

> Victor: How was your thing?
> 
> : Painfully short

“Lapin!” Yuuri said as they walked into the kitchen. They hugged their roommate tight. “What are you making tonight?” Phichit didn’t take his eyes off the stove.

“Green sweet curry and roti,” Phichit said. Yuuri nodded. “I called my mom today to ask how she makes it because it doesn’t come out right when I make it.” Yuuri nodded again. “I’m going to get it right this time. It’s going to be great.”

“It’s usually great when you’re making it, though,” Yuuri said.

“You’re just saying that,” Phichit said. “It’s going to be exactly how my mom makes it.” He seemed to be excited about attempting her sweet green curry tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, when you’re not around  
> When you throw that to the side, yeah


	13. Thinkin' Bout You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri didn't do anything but draw and look at hamsters. #JustMentalIyIllThings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could pick your brain and put your heart together.

**(Thursday, 30 September 2015 – 8:07am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

The panic attack Yuuri had last night wreaked its havoc and left Yuuri a shaking wreck in the morning. Phichit sympathized with Yuuri, gave them a peck on the forehead, and left them a note saying that he was going to class. Yuuri was awake, sentient, and drawing like mad. Today they felt like drawing flowers. So what did Yuuri do? They went and bought irises and peonies.

> Victor: Are you in class rn?
> 
> : No.

Yuuri arranged the flowers in their kitschy, 99¢ store vase, and thought of all things they could tell Phichit about them when he gets home. They came up with excuse after excuse, and none of them sounded remotely right so they just guessed that they would have to explain the thought process behind them buying the flowers and hoped that Phichit would understand.

> Victor: What are you doing then?
> 
> : Drawing flowers.
> 
> Victor: Sounds fun. I wish I could observe.
> 
> : …observe me drawing flowers?
> 
> : I hate to break it to you, but this – drawing – is not entertaining in the slightest.
> 
> Victor: I don’t care. I’d be with you, and that makes it all the worthwhile.

Yuuri put their phone down and ignored what Victor said. They were trying to get the petals right on the irises. “Why did I pick irises?” Yuuri murmured. “I could’ve picked something simpler. Something like a sunflower… Yeah… Sunflowers… Or lilies.” Yuuri paused. “Or would lilies be harder to draw?” Yuuri picked up their phone and wrote down an idea. “Will have to draw lilies later to see if it’s easier to draw.”

> Victor: How’s your drawing coming along?
> 
> : I want to say terribly, but I don’t know. You judge for yourself.
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]

Yuuri sent a picture of the flowers in the vase and the kitschy vase. The vase itself was blue and white with gold trim around the mouth. The berry blue on the vase was in a damask pattern.

> Victor: It looks lovely!
> 
> : I haven’t even really gotten started, though…
> 
> Victor: Well, it seems beautiful, and it’s going to be beautiful.
> 
> : And you know this… how?
> 
> Victor: Because you’re doing it.

Yuuri finished the flowers eventually. They half-assed them, but they were finished. And they felt surprisingly good about the flowers even though they half-assed them. 

But the flowers killed any motivation they had for drawing.

> Victor: Do you plan to draw anything else today?
> 
> : No. The flowers ruined me.
> 
> Victor: Poor солнышко ((sparkling heart emoji))

By now, Yuuri was rubbing the flowers on their face and stroking the individual flower petals. Yuuri finds rubbing soft things on their face a pleasurable sensory experience. Yuuri would even rub the hamsters on their face, but Phichit probably wouldn’t like that very much.

> : Did you go to class today?
> 
> Victor: I did.
> 
> : How was it?
> 
> Victor: I’ll call you.

Victor called when Yuuri was getting up to look at the hamsters go about their day. Yuuri put Victor on the speaker. “Hello?”

“ _Солнышко_!” Victor was beaming. “How are you?”

“Tired,” Yuuri said. “Aren’t you going to tell me about your day?” Yuuri popped a squat at Phichit’s desk – he never uses his desk to do work on, so he let the hamsters have it. Their home was in their cage on Phichit’s desk. So Yuuri listened to Victor talk about his day. He talked about the lesson and the greater significance of the thing he was talking about, and it all sounded like a great, big blur to Yuuri.

“Yuuri! Are you listening?”

“Yeah, go on,” Yuuri said.

“I finished,” Victor said.

“Oh.”

“I asked you what you were doing right now,” Victor said.

“I’m just looking at my roommate’s hamsters,” Yuuri said as they fought a yawn. “They’re adorable.”

“Do you like rodents that can be kept as pets?” Yuuri stuck their finger in the cage; Rei approached Yuuri’s finger and sniffed it. They smiled. “Hm?”

“I’m not very keen on rodents, but hamsters are adorable,” Yuuri said. “I can see why my roommate loves them.” Victor made another sound. “Do you like hamsters?”

“They’re okay, I suppose,” Victor said. “I like dogs, though. They’re great! Don’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t have a dog if I didn’t have a love for them,” Yuuri said. “But cats are pretty great, too.”

“Ah, you sound like my котёнок. He loves cats.” Yuuri nodded. Victor continued talking and talking, and Yuuri was zoning in and out. Then he stopped. “I should let you go now. I’ve had you on the phone for far too long.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri said.

“No, no, I’ll let you get back to watching hamsters,” Victor said, tongue-in-cheek. “It seems like you’re having fun doing that. I’ll text you.”

“Okay.” There was a silence. “Victor,” Yuuri said.

“Голубушка,” Victor said.

“Do you want me to hang up?”

“No, no, I’ll hang up,” Victor spoke his parting words and hung up. Yuuri continued to watch Phichit’s hamsters go about their lives.

> : Do you want me to make dinner tonight?
> 
> Phichit: That would be lovely, mon poupée

So Yuuri’s making dinner tonight. They were thinking oden.

#

**(Thursday, 30 September 2015 – 3:43pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri needed a bar before they started dinner. They had no clue where the sudden wave of anxiety came from, but they were grateful for the existence of Xanax, although they were going to go to sleep very, _very_ soon.

> Victor: Wyd
> 
> : Making dinner. And yourself?
> 
> Victor: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Victor: I’m picking out my clothes for tomorrow.

Victor sent a photo of himself, looking at a closet. The walls of his room were white, and the lights were bright. Yuuri remembered that they’re going to the museum tomorrow. “I should probably start picking out my clothes,” Yuuri mused.

> Victor: What are you making?
> 
> : Oden.
> 
> Victor: Oh, okay.
> 
> Victor: Is oden good? How’s it coming along?
> 
> : Pretty good.
> 
> : Is my response to both of your questions.

Yuuri went into the bedroom and started digging about for things they could wear. So far, they found a pair of jeans they had forgotten about and this black Atari logo shirt he had bought before they left Japan. “I can iron this and wear it tomorrow,” Yuuri thought. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Now all I need is a jacket.” Yuuri kept searching the room for a jacket that would go well with their clothes. They found their hoodie with The Great Wave off Kanagawa on it. “God, I am such a nerd,” they thought. “I’m still wearing it, though. Fuck everyone.” Yuuri placed the hoodie with their shirt and went into the bottom cabinets to find the iron. They saw it and ironed their clothes as the oden simmered.

> Victor: How’s the oden coming along now?
> 
> : It’s simmering. I’m ironing right now.
> 
> Victor: You don’t dry clean your clothes?
> 
> : I prefer having my clothes ironed.

Yuuri slowly ironed their pants, hoping that they’ll remember how their mother would do it. By the time they got to their pockets, they had remembered and picked up the pace. “It wouldn’t hurt me to clean up a bit, either,” Yuuri thought. “I’ll do it later.”

#

**(Thursday, 30 September 2015 – 8:46pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Ciao Ciao is getting worried about you,” Phichit said before he took some oden. “You’ve been missing practice because of your anxiety, and he’s worried.” Yuuri nodded. “He told me to tell you that you need to speak to Luzia about this.” Yuuri nodded again. “This is getting out of control.”

“I know, I know,” Yuuri said.

“He doesn’t know how you’ll manage when you get to the Grand Prix.”

“That’s _if_ I get there.”

“Yuuri, cut it out. You’re going to go there, and you’re going to do great.” Phichit started to eat. “I believe in you. We _all_ believe in you.” Yuuri started to pick at their food. “You need to learn how to believe in yourself,” Phichit said with a full mouth.

“I suppose I should,” Yuuri simply said as they picked at the dinner they made. Phichit scratched his hand.

“How could someone so brilliant and multi-talented be lacking in self-esteem and riddled with anxiety? I don’t understand.” Yuuri shrugged and continued to pick at their food. “Well, what else did you do today?”  
  


“I drew,” Yuuri said. Phichit nodded. “And I talked to Victor.”

“And how did the conversation go?”

“I was out of it for most of it. He was talking about his day and all that, and I was paying attention to the hamsters.” Yuuri smiled. “Rei sniffed my hand. Rei is my favorite.”

“You can’t say that. We have to love all of the hamsters equally.”

“I know, but... I like Rei.”

“That’s just going to make Hotaru and Setsuna feel bad.”

“Hotaru and Setsuna know I love them, too.”

“Apologize to Hotaru and Setsuna right now.” Yuuri sighed. They went into the bedroom with Phichit in tow. Yuuri sat at the desk and looked at Phichit’s hamsters.

“Hotaru, Setsuna, I love you two as much as I love Rei,” Yuuri said. They stuck their finger in the cage and Hotaru sniffed Yuuri’s finger. They smiled. Setsuna sniffed Yuuri’s finger and started to nibble on the tip. Yuuri smiled. “You know, I picked out my clothes for tomorrow.” Phichit smiled. “Are you proud?”

“Always and forever, mon chou,” Phichit said as he watched Yuuri interact with the hamsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Котёнок” – phonetically written as kotyonok; pronounced like katyonak – is literally “kitten” in Russian. Victor literally called our Russian Ice Fairy a kitten.


	14. Reigning and Queens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Museum outing and Neruda in the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listen to “Carabosse” and “Coloring Book” and eat animal crackers while I write fanfiction and this is what my life has become.

**(Friday, 1 October 2015 – 12:08pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Eduvigis crossed her leg and smiled. “So? What are you doing today?”

“I’m going to the museum with Victor,” Yuuri said as they put on their shirt.

“So? How has it been?” Eduvigis grinned and winked.

“What are you implying?” Yuuri asked with a coy smile.

“Any _progress_?” Eduvigis asked with another wink. Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Yes? No?”

“Well, Phichit said that I was talking about how I want to be inside Victor when we were drunk on Saturday,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis giggled madly. “He said it was a hot mess.”

“Did he record it?”

“I’d hope not,” Yuuri said. “I don’t need to be exposed to everyone. I may be a shameless figure skating _otaku_ , but I don’t need my sexuality to be exposed. And not to him.” Eduvigis rolled her eyes.

“Would there be any problem with Victor knowing your sexuality?” Eduvigis asked. “It’s not like you’re revealing it to those in your professional life.”

“But he _will_ be in my professional life,” Yuuri said. They put on deodorant. “We’re both skaters.”

“Well, try not to think of your interactions with him as professional,” Eduvigis said. “Look at him like he’s a fellow student you want to get to know. After all, he _is_ a fellow student, and you _do_ want to get to know him.” Yuuri shrugged and put on their shirt. “Right?”

“Right, but –”

“But what? Your heart wants to get to know him. You should allow your heart reprieve and allow yourself to be happy with him.” Eduvigis looked at her phone. “You can be happy. It’s okay to be happy.”

“I guess,” Yuuri said. “I just don’t want it to be temporary. Victor can have anyone and everything in the world, and I don’t want him to be in my life temporarily.” Yuuri bit their lip and looked at the wall of posters. They fixed their eyes on the poster for “Chango Macho.” “I want to have the chance to be with him.”

“So why don’t you hit on him?” Eduvigis asked.

“What if he isn’t interested in me?” Yuuri asked.

“Well, then you’d know!” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Well, then you’d know,” Yuuri mockingly said in their head.

#

**(Friday, 1 October 2015 – 1:30pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Victor was in front of the deli at 1:30pm sharp. Yuuri was reading Tropic of Capricorn to kill time. “Yuuri?” Victor stood in front of them. “Yuuri!” Victor was snapping his finger.

“Oh, hello,” Yuuri said and closed the book. “I was reading.”

“I can tell,” Victor said with a smile. “So, Henry Miller?” Yuuri nodded. “What prompted you to pick that?”

“I had the book,” Yuuri said. “An acquaintance had gifted me the book, and I never got the chance to read it.” Victor nodded. “Today, I had thought that you might be late, so I brought something that could occupy me.” Victor nodded again.

“And are you occupied?”

“Very much so,” Yuuri said. “But I think that’s because you’re here and not because of the book at the moment.” He put the book in their bag and smiled at Victor. “And how are you on this lovely day in September?”

“October.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s October,” Victor said. “And I’m fine. Very fine. You?” Yuuri looked down their nails; then looked at Victor; then they nodded. “Is that good?” Yuuri nodded again. “Great! Let us go!” Victor held out his hand for Yuuri and Yuuri took it. “Did your roommate pick out your clothes again?” He was being cheeky. Yuuri rolled their eyes and smiled.

“I picked out my clothes today – thank you very much,” Yuuri matter-of-factly said. Victor chuckled. It was time to look at some art.

#

**(Friday, 1 October 2015 – 4:20pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“How was the remainder of The Africa, Oceania, and Indigenous Arts collection?” Victor asked as he opened the door to the café. “I felt it was underwhelming, but that’s just me.”

“The Apache basket was nice,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. Yuuri had taken a Xanax after ballet but before they left to meet Victor. They didn’t want to be sidetracked from absorbing the art. Fortunately, they weren’t distracted – just sedated. Now they were in the café. The café was usually sparsely populated at this time of day. They got in line to order. “You have to admit that it was nice.”

“I feel like you have a bias,” Victor said.

“I _will_ have a bias when we get to the Asian arts and culture collection,” Yuuri said with a smile.

“Hi,” the barista said, “how may I help you two?” They ordered, and Victor insisted on paying. The barista joked and told Yuuri to “let your boyfriend pay for your drink.” Yuuri sharply inhaled. They stopped talking and let Victor pay for their drink. They walked to their usual spot – a window spot – and Yuuri was silent.

“Are you okay? Did the barista break you?” Victor asked with a giggle. “If this bothers you, I won’t pay for your drink again.” Victor stroked the back of Yuuri’s hand. “Boyfriend.” Yuuri broke again. “Ah! Sorry, sorry!” Victor didn’t stop stroking the back of Yuuri’s hand, though. Once Yuuri was done with their erratic breathing, they asked how practice was going. “Oh, well, practice has been fine. It’s a pain, though.” Yuuri nodded.

“I hope practice could get better for you,” Yuuri said.

“It will once the season is over,” Victor said. Yuuri’s interest was piqued. “But, then again, practice never ends for me.” Yuuri nodded and took a sip of their Frappuccino. “Enough about me, though. How are things for you?”

“Well, either I’m being interrupted, or I’ve been so low-functioning even to go, so I feel bad,” Yuuri said.

“I remember when I used to feel bad about not going to practice,” Victor said before he took a sip of his chai tea latte. “You still have love for your sport, and that makes me happy.” Yuuri nodded. “How’s your roommate? Did he like the dish you made last night?”

“He’s fine. He loved the oden.” Victor nodded. “So you live alone?”

“Just me and my books. Makkachin is back home. It makes me sad.” Yuuri nodded. Victor patted his pockets. “Ah, before I forget,” Victor said as he pulled out a note and placed it between Yuuri’s fingers.

“Why do you give me notes?” Yuuri asked.

“Why not?” Victor said with a shrug. He took a sip of his latte. “I’m trying to talk to you in a way that I know how.”

“So you give me notes,” Yuuri said.

“It’s not so much the notes, but what they contain. If I could get across what I’m thinking and feeling without notes, I would.” Yuuri nodded. “But I can’t. So I give you notes.” Yuuri looked at the note between their fingers and put it in their bag. “Do you want to see something?” Yuuri nodded. “Don’t look!” Yuuri complied and waited until Victor was ready. Victor showed Yuuri his phone. “This is ‘The Mermaids’ by Ivan Kramskoi.” Victor scrolled right. “And this is a portrait of Ivan Shishkin.” Yuuri nodded. Then they took out their phone and started scrolling and swiping. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to show you Hiroshige woodblock paintings,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. “But, in the meantime, look at my hoodie! It’s a print of ‘The Great Wave off Kanagawa’ by Hokusai! That’s a famous Hokusai woodblock painting!” Victor nodded again and smiled. “Found it!” Yuuri turned their phone towards Victor. “This is ‘Snow Scene and Kinryuzan Buddhist Temple.’” Victor nodded.

“It’s so beautiful,” Victor said. Yuuri scrolled a bit more and turned their phone back towards Victor.

“And this is ‘Daybreak After a Snowfall at Susaki.’”

“And those are by who?”

“Hiroshige,” Yuuri said. Victor took out his notepad and wrote that down.

“And who made the painting on your hoodie?”

“Hokusai,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t know if I spelled it right,” Victor said. “Here.” Victor gave his notepad and pen to Yuuri. “You should probably write it for me.” Yuuri crossed out what Victor wrote and rewrote “Hiroshige” and “Hokusai.”

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Victor smiled. “You said that your sister likes them, right?” Yuuri nodded. “What’s your sister like?”

“She likes bands and art,” Yuuri said. “Um… She’s not a very good cook. She has blonde highlights. We live together.” Victor chuckled. “What?” 

“Nothing.” Victor patted Yuuri’s hand. “That was cute. You’re cute.” He took a sip of latte. Yuuri took a large sip of his Frappuccino. “Boyfriends. I can’t get over that.” Victor said with a smile. “You know where she got that idea from, right?” Yuuri nodded. “It’s cute.” Victor chuckled and took a sip of his latte.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

“I don’t know. Probably reading or practicing. Oh, and I can’t forget talking to you.” Victor said with a smile. His phone buzzed. “That must be Chris.” Victor smiled at his phone. “He wants a picture. Pose, honey.”

“What?” A blush crept upon Yuuri’s face.

“Pose for me,” Victor said. Yuuri sipped their Frappuccino. “Is that what you’re going with?” Yuuri nodded. “Okay.” Victor chuckled and took the flick. Then he took some more.”

“I’m sure you have more than enough pictures of me, Victor,” Yuuri said.

“I know,” Victor said with a smile. He sent a flick to Christophe and put his phone in his pocket. “You can take pictures of me; you know that, right?”

“I know,” Yuuri said.

“Are you going to?” Yuuri picked up their phone and took an off-guard of Victor. Victor smiled. “Take another.” Yuuri took another flick and then two more. “The only thing that can make this better is if we take a selfie together. Oh! The park would be the perfect place for that.”

“The park?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand and pulled at it. “The lighting outside is great, and there’s this nice spot that I want to show you.” Yuuri grabbed their drink and followed Victor out of the café. They walked down the block to the park and Victor led them to a grassy area. They weren’t too far off any paths, but they weren’t visible to anyone on a trail. It was tranquil, serene. You could even hear the birds — just the way Victor wants it. And Yuuri wants that. “This is the spot.” Victor took out his phone and opened the camera app. Victor started angling the phone every which way, trying to find the perfect angles. “Smile with me!” Victor insisted when he began taking flicks. Victor threw his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and placed his nose on Yuuri’s cheek and took a flick. There was a gentle breeze, and some of Victor’s loose hair caressed Yuuri’s face. Victor’s hair smells like coconuts.

“Um,” Yuuri muttered.

“What?”

“Your face is kind of close to mine.”

“Is it making you uncomfortable?” Yuuri swallowed air and said no. “One more selfie, and then I’ll stop.” Yuuri took a deep breath; they didn’t want this to stop. Victor took a flick of their pose and pulled away. Yuuri was surprised when Victor did pull away, but at least they would be able to relish in the feeling of Victor’s face being near theirs. “Sit with me.” Victor sat on the grass and Yuuri sat across from him. Yuuri was looking at their hands. “What are you thinking about?”

“Partridges,” Yuuri murmured. Victor was playing with a few blades of grass. Then he stopped and took a book out of his messenger bag. Victor tapped the cover. Yuuri moved their face closer to the book.

“I’ll read one to you,” Victor suggested. “I’m really into Spanish poetry right now.”

“Do you speak Spanish?” Victor shook his head. Then he put down his book and fixed his hair. “Maybe one day I’ll introduce you to Japanese poetry.”

“Like, haikus and stuff?” Yuuri nodded. “I’ve never really been able to get into haikus. I’m sorry.”

“You’ll like haikus by the time I’m done,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled. Yuuri picked up the book. “Pablo Neruda?” Victor nodded.

“He’s Chilean.” Yuuri gave the book back to Victor. “Do you want me to read you a sonnet of his?”

“That would be nice,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled and cleared his throat.

“How many times, love, I loved you without seeing you…” Victor continued reading. Yuuri’s attention was piqued. “Perhaps I saw you, and I supposed to pass by raising a drink…” Now they were intrigued. “…that I touched in the darkness and sounded like the uncontrolled sea…” They felt something tug at their heart, gently but ever present. “I loved you without my knowing it, and I searched for your memory.” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s wrist and said: “Suddenly while you were with me I touched you and stopped my life: in front of my eyes you were, reigning, and queens.” Victor smiled. “Did you like it?”

“It was beautiful,” Yuuri said. Victor closed the book and smiled. “Do you like poetry?”

“I love it. That’s why almost every note I’ve given you has a poem on it.” Yuuri nodded. “I should get you home. Your roommate might start worrying.”

“You’re so considerate of Phichit.” Victor smiled and got up. Then he pulled Yuuri up and wrapped his arms around them. They walked hand in hand to Yuuri’s apartment. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will. And send me the pictures.” Victor gave Yuuri a quick hug. “Пока, солнышко!”

“Yeah, that word,” Yuuri said and unlocked their door. Phichit was watching a rerun of We Bare Bears. “I’m home,” Yuuri said as they opened the door.

“I can tell,” Phichit said and turned down the television. “How was your date?” Yuuri didn’t pay Phichit’s wording any mind. They took off their jacket and left their shoes by the door. 

“It was fine,” Yuuri said. “I thought the collection was nice; Victor thought it was underwhelming, though.” Yuuri took a seat next to their best friend. “How was class today, poupée?”

“It’s been a month, and I’m already tired of it.” Phichit chuckled. “At least I’m not one of those unfortunate souls with Saturday classes.” Yuuri nodded. Phichit leaned on Yuuri and smiled. Yuuri didn’t move or try to run to change out of their clothes; instead, they sat there watching We Bare Bears with their roommate and tried to determine which character fit a real-life person they know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually need assistance. If you know which Neruda poem Victor read, please help a brother out and tell me which one it is. I didn't think to write it down anywhere because I thought I'd never need it again, but it turns out I do so here we are.


	15. Even If You Don't Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School and mental illness has never been the wave. It is, in fact, the wackest of waves.

**(Wednesday, 7 October 2015 – 8:10am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

In addition to the anxiety they were feeling, Yuuri was hallucinating this morning. They kept hearing laughter and heavy footsteps where there was silence; that large shadow that looms over the rink when they skate sat in the corner of the room. All of the coping skills their psych team had taught them went out the window. They didn’t draw or stim like they usually would at their desk. Instead, they sat there with their head down. The Xanax wasn’t helping as well as it often did. The Remeron was a lie. The only thing that did its job was the Zyprexa, and it did it passably well.

“Yuuri?” Victor touched Yuuri’s back. “Are you okay?” Yuuri put their head up and nodded. “Are you sure? You look out of it.” Yuuri nodded again. “Okay, _солнышко_.” Victor slid a note under their palm. “This might not be the best time.” Yuuri took the note and put it in their sweater pocket. Victor pulled his desk closer to Yuuri’s. “Do you feel sick?” Yuuri hesitated but made a sound that could be interpreted as a “yes.” Yuuri didn’t know how to explain to the person that they liked that they hear voices and that there’s a giant shadow in the corner, and they’re internally trembling, and they don’t know what to do. 

“Victor?”

“Yes?”

“You might not understand this but hold my hand. Please.” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand and brought it to his mouth. “Thank you.”

It was 8:20 am now. Yuuri wasn’t any better.

“Hey, Yuuri, can you walk?” Yuuri murmured a “yes.” “Follow me.” Victor grabbed his bag and Yuuri’s and led Yuuri out of the classroom. Victor led Yuuri to their spot in the library. It was lightly populated right now; Victor was grateful for that. “Lay down.” He motioned to the sofa that was there. Victor sat and placed their bags by their legs. Yuuri laid their head on Victor’s lap, using their arm as a pillow.

“You should go to class,” Yuuri murmured.

“I’m not going to leave you alone,” Victor said as he gently stroked Yuuri’s head. The shadow was sitting in the corner, observing them; the voices were still as loud. Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand and squeezed it. “When you feel better, will you tell me what happened?” Yuuri nodded. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but if you don’t want to nap, is there something you’d like to talk about?”

“Whales,” Yuuri said as they rubbed their eyes with their fist. “I’d like to talk about whales.”

“Alright, tell me about whales,” Victor said.

“They make such pretty sounds,” Yuuri gushed. Victor nodded. “And they’re so big and lovely. I want to touch a whale. We should go to the aquarium.”

“I don’t think they have whales in aquariums,” Victor plainly said.

“I will go home and find a whale just to touch it, Victor,” Yuuri said. He chuckled. “I want this. I want this a lot.”

“I’m sure you do,” Victor said as he stroked Yuuri’s head. Yuuri felt Victor’s phone buzz. “That’s Chris. Hold on.” Victor shifted and fished his phone out of his pocket. “Oh, did I tell you that he said I could give you his number?”

“No, you did not.” Yuuri shifted. “How did you forget something like that?”

“I was looking at art. Give me your phone.” Yuuri gave Victor their phone and unlocked it. When Victor was done, he put Yuuri’s phone in their sweater pocket. He grabbed Yuuri’s hand again. “Do you want to move your arm? It might get numb.” Yuuri moved their arm from under their head and brought it to their chest. They feel vulnerable right now: they’re having an episode with Victor at their side, and Victor hasn’t left yet. “Yet,” Yuuri mused. The thought almost depresses them. Victor was mumbling the lyrics to a song as he stroked their head.

#

**(Wednesday, 7 October 2015 – 11:45am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Victor gently said. “Are you better now?” Yuuri looked at the corner. The shadow was still there, but it was reduced in size. The laughter and loud footsteps have stopped. Yuuri nodded. “It’s time for your math class. Do you want to go?” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll take you to class.” Yuuri slowly sat up, rubbed their eyes, and reached for their bag. “Remember to text me if you need me.” Victor got up and picked up his bag. He helped Yuuri up, and they walked hand in hand to Yuuri’s math class.

#

**(Wednesday, 7 October 2015 – 6:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was at the rink, trying to skate away the post-hallucinatory confusion. They want to practice their short program and free skate before tomorrow. They haven’t been practicing as much recently, and they want to change that.

> Victor: Don’t overwork yourself.

Yuuri landed a Salchow. They were a nonstop, ecstatic, post-hallucinatory confused mess, but they were elated, nonetheless. They were able to transition into a camel spin and then a Biellmann spin. They felt great, on top of the world; nothing could stop them now. The shadow left them alone after his math class, and they were trying to catch up to everything.

> Victor: I went to practice today.
> 
> Victor: It’s underwhelming.

Yuuri’s phone was at the rink side, in their bag, unassuming. Yuuri was talking a break when the doors to the rink opened. “Hello?”

“Hey, bitch!” It was Khoudia Bâ Sène; she’s a first-generation Senegalese American. She’s short, black, and she usually always keeps her hair in braids. She’s shy and kind to everyone. Yuuri almost wants to kick himself with his skates on for not talking to her sooner. Almost. “Trying to get some practice in?” She sat next to Yuuri and started to take off her shoes. Yuuri nodded. “How do you feel about your events? Are you excited?”

“There’s a hole of anxiety in my chest, and with each passing day, it gets harder to breathe.”

“Yeah, same.” Khoudia kicked off her shoes. “At least we’ll be at the Rostelecom Cup together. It won’t be too bad like that.” Yuuri shrugged. “How’s your other half?”

“He’s fine,” Yuuri said. She nodded and sweetly smiled.

“Do you want to watch me practice for a bit?” Khoudia asked. “I’ll be sure to blow you away.” Khoudia glided to the center of the ice and started her short dance. “How could someone so small put so much ferocity into her performance?” Yuuri wondered. Khoudia ended her performance with a Charlotte spiral and braids flying. “How was that?”

“It was amazing,” Yuuri said as they greeted her on the ice. “The ferocity you displayed was amazing.”

“Thanks, I hope I can convey that to the judges at the Grand Prix,” Khoudia said as she stretched. “If I could just carry my stage presence to the Grand Prix and show that to the judges, I can just blow them all away.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I will move back to Senegal,” she said. She was firm in her decision. “I am very serious.”

“Even after everything?” Yuuri incredulously asked.

“Even after everything,” Khoudia said. “So what about you? What would you do?”

“I’ll move back to Japan and become a doujinshi scanlator if I ruin this,” Yuuri simply said. Khoudia smiled sheepishly.

“What would Phichit do?”

“Without me? Or if he lost the Grand Prix?”

“Both.”

“Well, if he lost the Grand Prix, he would probably go back to Thailand and start working on his ice show.” Yuuri cracked their knuckles. “Without me? I hope he’d continue being the enthusiastic, figure skating _onigiri_ he is.” Khoudia giggled. “Don’t you want to practice your free skate?” Yuuri asked.

“Will you watch?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri nodded. “Thank you.” Khoudia started with a lutz. In her performance, she had an I spin and ended with an Ina Bauer which went into a lunge. “How was that?!” Khoudia skated to the edge of the rink.

“It was very extra.” Khoudia nodded. “It was excellent.” Khoudia grinned. “You’re going to do great. I believe in you.”

“I believe in you, too!” Khoudia firmly put her hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “You should practice. I bet your short will be great.” Yuuri practiced their short dance again. They were able to land the Salchow and transition into a camel spin. Despite Yuuri’s rough day, their evening is looking up.

#

**(Wednesday, 7 October 2015 – 8:36pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Poupée!” Phichit yelled as soon as Yuuri came through the door. They winced. “How was practice? Were you disrupted today?”

“It was fine. Khoudia and I practiced together.”

“Oh, she came to the rink for once?” Yuuri nodded. They took off their shoes at the door and hung up their jacket. “She’s going to do great at the Grand Prix.”

“So you’re certain that she’s going to the Grand Prix, but you’re not?” Phichit asked. Yuuri nodded.

“She has to go. It’s Khoudia. Khoudia is great at the skating thing.” Phichit rolled his eyes. “Do you want to order food?”

“Sure. Chinese?” Yuuri looked at Phichit. “Fine, Shanghai or Cantonese Chinese food?”

“Shanghai,” Yuuri said. “I would like Yāndǔxiān.”

“Alright, I’ll get Xiaolongbao,” Phichit said. Yuuri nodded. “I’ll make the phone call. You can go shower.” Yuuri nodded and went into the bedroom to get out some clothes.

#

**(Wednesday, 7 October 2015 – 9:09pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri washed the pains and frustrations of the day away, and they were drying their medium length hair. They were watching The Proud Family. “Oh, oh, how’s Victor?” Phichit asked during a commercial. “You haven’t mentioned him since you drank. Is everything okay? Do I have to feed him to my hamsters?” Yuuri fought a smile.

“He’s fine. We’re fine. You don’t have to feed him to Rei, Hotaru, and Setsuna,” Yuuri said. Phichit smiled. “He’s very tender.” Yuuri held their head down. Phichit angled himself to get a look at Yuuri’s face.

“What happened today?”

“I was hallucinating this morning. Victor didn’t leave me alone – in a good way.” Yuuri fixed the towel that was keeping the water from getting in their face. “He’s very kind. It’s touching.” Phichit smiled. 

“While I am glad that you had someone there to nurse you as you were having an episode, I am getting distraught. If it’s not a panic attack or high anxiety, it’s a hallucination. It’s worrying. I’m worried about you.” Yuuri nodded. “I’m going to tell Luzia if you don’t tell her.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Yuuri said.

“Then tell her,” Phichit said.

“I will,” Yuuri said. They looked at their phone, finally. It was four texts from Victor.

> Victor: Are you home now?
> 
> : Yeah.
> 
> : How was your practice?
> 
> Victor: Underwhelming but needed.

Yuuri also had four texts from Christophe.

> Christophe: Ah! Hi, cutie!
> 
> Christophe: Victor finally gave me your number!
> 
> Christophe: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Christophe: That’s for your contact pic of me ((grinning emoji))

The picture in question was of Christophe with the Snapchat dog filter. His tongue was out, and his eyes were closed. Phichit was looking over Yuuri’s shoulder now. “Victor gave me Christophe’s number today.”

“Giacometti?” Yuuri nodded. “Wow, Yuuri. You’re getting to know former Grand Prix finalists before they even know how to say your name.” Phichit grinned. “Ooh, Christophe called you ‘cute.’ Victor should look out before his boyfriend gets snatched away!” Phichit was cackling.

“Phichit, why are we friends?” Yuuri was cackling with him.

“Because you can’t get enough of me.” Yuuri looked at Phichit and grinned. “You know it’s true!”

“You have a point. And there will never be anyone quite like you.” Yuuri fixed their hair towel again. Phichit smiled.

> Christophe: wyd cutie
> 
> : I’m drying my hair
> 
> Christophe: send pics

Yuuri took a flick of themselves, sitting with a towel on their head. Christophe sent a row of heart emojis and a flick of himself, laying down with his cat. Yuuri’s towel fell off of their head, and they were done with trying to fix it.

“Yuuri, let me fix your towel.” Yuuri gave the towel to Phichit, and Phichit sat Yuuri between his legs to fix the towel. “Let me know when you want to take it off.” Yuuri nodded. There was a ring at the doorbell. 

“I’ll get it.” Yuuri got up and answered the door. Phichit peered out from behind Yuuri.

“You forgot the money, Yuuri.” Phichit paid the delivery man, and Yuuri took the food. They closed the door and sat down to eat dinner.


	16. A Spell on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor makes a big move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Steven Universe episode title card sounds*

#

**(Friday, 9 October 2015 – 12:18pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“So?” Eduvigis asked as she laid on her back. Yuuri looked down at her and stepped over her. “How was the museum last week?”

“Victor keeps touching me,” Yuuri said as they took off their pointe shoes. Eduvigis sprung up and leaped onto the standing piano. She put her feet on the C notes. 

“And? Any progress?”

“He lets me sleep on him,” Yuuri said. “He strokes my head when I sleep, too. It’s sweet.”

“That’s very sweet of him,” Eduvigis said. She pressed her feet into the C notes, and the piano made sounds. “How’s hitting on him going?”

“I haven’t made any moves,” Yuuri said. They put their pointe shoes in their bag. “I don’t know how to hit on him.”

“Put a spell on him,” Eduvigis said. Yuuri looked at her. “Just a suggestion.” Eduvigis started to flex and pointe her feet. 

“You know, for someone my mom’s age…”

“Yes?”

“You’re very energetic,” Yuuri said.

“You need energy when you’re a dancer,” Eduvigis said. She passed Yuuri their deodorant. Yuuri put it on and passed it back to Eduvigis. Eduvigis put it in Yuuri’s bag. “Your mother is a dancer, right?”

“She was,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis nodded.

“Is she as energetic as me?”

“In some ways, yes,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis smiled. She stood on the top of the piano. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing much,” she said with a smile.

“Please do not hurt yourself,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis jumped off the piano and started to brisé volé.

“I should be telling _you_ that,” Eduvigis said as she giggled.

“Did you have coffee today?”

“Yes,” Eduvigis said.

“A lot of coffee?” Yuuri asked.

“Perhaps,” Eduvigis said as she started to do pirouettes.

“I’m going to leave now,” Yuuri said.

“Dressed like that? I think not.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Finish changing your clothes, and then you may leave.” Yuuri sighed and continued to get dressed to leave the studio.

#

**(Friday, 9 October 2015 – 1:29pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was waiting for Victor. They were in front of the deli, still reading Tropic of Capricorn. They picked out their clothes again this week. “Yuuri.” Yuuri closed the book when they heard Victor’s voice. “How are you feeling?” Victor gently cupped Yuuri’s chin, and a blush crept upon Yuuri’s face. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“I am. Thank you for watching me.” Victor smiled. Yuuri put Tropic of Capricorn in their bag. “What are we going to see at the museum today?”

“I want to see the Arts of Asia collection with you,” Yuuri told Victor.

“And I want to see the Islamic Collection with you,” Victor said. “We can see the Islamic Collection next week.” Victor smiled. “Let’s go!” Victor and Yuuri held hands as they walked to the museum. 

#

**(Friday, 9 October 2015 – 4:18pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri and Victor had ordered their drinks: a chai tea latte and a vanilla bean Frappuccino. “So, what did you think of the Asian art?” Yuuri asked.

“The stationery box was so pretty,” Victor gushed. “What was on it? Lotus blossoms and scrolls?” Yuuri nodded. “And the screen was nice, too. What were your favorite pieces?”

“My three favorite pieces were the Noh Theatre Robe, Bodhisattva, and the full moon jar.”

“The jar?” Victor asked. Yuuri nodded.

“It has a subtle beauty that makes it easy to appreciate. It’s amazing to think that something that looks so simple was reserved for those with privilege.” Victor nodded. “Did you think that today’s collection was underwhelming?” Victor shook his head. “Good. Do you like Asian art now?”

“Show me more, and I’ll make up my mind,” Victor coyly said. “Before I forget.” Victor reached into his pocket. Yuuri anticipated the note today. Yuuri keeps all of Victor’s notes in a small box now in their dresser. “My event is in two weeks.” Yuuri nodded. “I’m going to be in Canada.” Yuuri took a sip of their vanilla bean Frappuccino and played with how they want to keep the straw positioned. “Before I go, I want to go out with you.”

“Out?”

“Yeah, out. We can go to the zoo, to a movie, to a restaurant… I can cook!” Victor shrugged. “You have options.” Victor sipped his latte. “I just want to do something with you.”

“We already go to the art museum together every week,” Yuuri muttered. Despite being overjoyed by the prospect of a different type of outing with Victor, they were anxious. What if, after this outing, Victor didn’t want to be with them?

“I just want to do something different with you.” Victor held Yuuri’s hand. “If you want, you can say ‘no.’”

“But I want to go out with you,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled. “What will we be doing?”

“I don’t know. That’s your decision to make. This is about you.” Yuuri felt their face warm. “As I said, we can go out to eat. We can see a movie. We can go to the zoo.”

“We can go to the aquarium!” Yuuri was embarrassed by the pitch of their voice when they said that. “We can go to the aquarium,” Yuuri said, trying to control their excitement. Victor smiled. “Let’s go to the aquarium.” Victor agreed.

“Can I cook for you after? I assure you that I am a good cook.” Yuuri nodded. Victor smiled. “This makes me happy. I thought for a moment that you might say ‘no’ and I would have had to sit here and look foolish.” Victor took a sip of his latte. “I’m glad you said yes. When do you want to go?” Yuuri shrugged.

“Shouldn’t our…”

“Date, Yuuri. It’s a date.” Victor said with a smile.

“Yeah, our date. Shouldn’t our date work around your schedule? You are going to be busier than me, after all.” Yuuri took sips of their Frappuccino. “Just text me when you are free.” Victor smiled. 

“Will you respond?” Yuuri nodded. “Good. That makes me happy.” Victor squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “Has Chris texted you?” Yuuri nodded. “Did he send you the photo he wants as his contact picture?” Yuuri nodded. “It was the dog filter one, wasn’t it?” Yuuri nodded again. “That’s going to be his favorite selfie until he has a new favorite selfie.” Victor’s phone buzzed. “Speaking of Chris, that must be him.” Victor took out his phone. “Pose for me. He wants another picture.”

“What does he do with them?” Victor shrugged.

“He probably uses them for his social media snooping.”

“What?”

“Chris is an expert at finding people on social media. Provided that he has enough information, that is.” Yuuri deadpanned. “He’s just going to follow you on Instagram and Twitter. Harmless.” Victor smiled. Yuuri looked at their phone; they got a follow request on Instagram from Christophe. “Oh! Do you like poetry? I’ve been giving you poem after poem and reading Neruda to you, and I don’t even know if you like poetry.”

“I like poetry, but I don’t think I like _your_ kind of poetry,” Yuuri said. Victor was puzzled. “What I’m trying to say is that you like flowery, artistic poetry about love and longing and the essence of being, and I like haikus and Walt Whitman.”

“I can get you to like flowery poetry,” Victor firmly said. “I’ll expand your poetry palate while you expose me to Asian art.” Victor smiled. “Maybe after our dinner, we can watch movies, and I can read you poetry, and you can show me art. It’ll be a fun date.”

> Victor: Chris, I have an announcement.
> 
> Chris: Ooh, what’s up?
> 
> Victor: Cutie said he’d go on a date with me.
> 
> Chris: Aah!
> 
> Chris: This is great! I’m so happy!!

“Is that Christophe?” Victor nodded.

“He’s pleased about our date.” Yuuri blushed. “Are you going to tell your roommate?”

“Of course. Phichit’s my roommate,” Yuuri said, matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn’t I tell him?” Victor shrugged, holding his silence. Victor had a myriad of things to say. He wanted to know if Yuuri’s friends would accept him going out with him, if their roommate would want to meet him to vet him, if their roommate even knew that Yuuri was talking to Victor. Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Christophe: Congrats on your date with Victor, cutie!!!
> 
> : Thanks.
> 
> Christophe: Victor is so much fun. Trust me.
> 
> Christophe: You’re going to love being with him.

“Was that Chris?” Yuuri nodded and showed Victor their phone. “Ah, he called you ‘cutie.’” Victor smiled. “Well, he’s certainly right about that.” Victor smiled. “Has he called you yet?” Yuuri shook their head. “He’s going to call you eventually. Just making you aware.” Victor smiled. “He’s going to keep you on the phone for a while, too. He loves long phone calls.” Victor placed both of his palms firmly on the table. “I should get you home. And I should get home, too. I want to start the assignment tonight.” Victor smiled. “Let’s go.” Victor offered Yuuri his hand, and they left the café. 

#

**(Friday, 9 October 2015 – 5:20pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Text me when you get home,” Yuuri said to Victor as they stepped through the door. Victor assured Yuuri that he would, and Yuuri closed the door. Phichit wasn’t in the living room to be seen. “Mon trognon?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re here,” Yuuri said. They went into the kitchen and kissed Phichit on the cheek. “How was your day?” Yuuri looked at Phichit dice an onion.

“I was on All Recipes, and I felt inspired.” Yuuri nodded and leaned on the counter. “We’re having lasagna tonight.” Yuuri nodded. “How was your date with Victor?” Phichit was focused on the onions. 

“It was good. We’re going on another one in the future.” Phichit nodded.

“To the museum?”

“No, we’re going on a real date.” Phichit stopped dicing onions. “Mon trognon, are you okay?” Yuuri looked down at Phichit’s hands; they seem to be okay.

“You’re going on a proper date with Victor?” Yuuri nodded. Phichit grinned; his eyes were watering. “I’ve wanted this since you told me about your celebrity crush on him.” Yuuri blushed. “I’m picking out your clothes for your date. You can’t argue with me on this; I won’t let you.” Phichit resumed his onion chopping. “You can tell me all about it! Just be sure to tell me about it while you’re crushing the garlic. Help me with dinner.”

“Can I get out of my clothes first?”

“Of course,” Phichit said. Yuuri changed out of their clothes and got to crushing the garlic. Phichit is very enthusiastic about making this lasagna; he’s usually this excited about cooking. 

#


	17. Come, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mental illness still isn't the wave and Chris and Yuuri talk on the phone.

#

**(Tuesday, 13 October 2015 – 12:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was seeing their therapist today. They’re anxious and excited to tell Luzia about their date with Victor. First, however, they had to tell Luzia about their episode last week. Phichit and Coach Cialdini insisted on it. If it were up to Yuuri, they wouldn’t tell Luzia about their most recent incident; however, they want Phichit and Coach to leave them alone about it.

“Hi, Yuuri!” Luzia was wearing floral pants and a white dress shirt. What a coincidence! Yuuri was wearing floral pants, too. Yuuri got up. “How are you doing?” Yuuri shrugged. “Come on, let’s talk about it.” Yuuri followed Luzia to her office, and they sat in their usual seat. “Now, what’s going on?” Luzia smiled. 

“Last week, I hallucinated and had a panic attack,” Yuuri said. Luzia nodded.

“What were you hallucinating?”

“Laughter, footsteps, and a large shadow.” Luzia nodded. “The shadow wouldn’t leave me alone.” Luzia nodded again.

“And what did you do when you realized you were hallucinating?”

“I put my head down.”

“This was in class?”

“Before class.” Luzia nodded. “It was before my art history class started. I was waiting for class to begin.” Luzia nodded again.

“What happened after?”

“Victor came in.” Luzia nodded. “I asked him to hold my hand, and he did.” Luzia smiled. “He asked if I was okay, and then he took me to the library.”

“Why the library?”

“He thought being in the library would be better for me.” Luzia nodded. “We stayed there until class was over.”

“Did being in the library help?”

“Well, after I took a nap in the library, the voices stopped, but I couldn’t stop shaking, and the shadow was still there.” Luzia nodded. “It was scary. I was glad that Victor stayed with me, but it was still scary.”

“I could imagine,” Luzia said as she played with a pen on her desk. “Did you use any coping skills?” Yuuri shrugged. “You didn’t draw or use any deep breathing exercises?”

“My hands were shaking so I couldn’t draw even if I wanted to,” Yuuri said. “And I didn’t try to breathe.” Luzia nodded.

“Regardless, Yuuri,” Luzia said, “I am very proud of you for enduring.” She smiled. “I want you to make an appointment with Noêmia and discuss this with her.”

“What will she do?”

“Probably increase your Zyprexa.” Yuuri nodded. “Is there anything else you want to say about it?” Yuuri shrugged. “Nothing? Nothing at all?” Yuuri shrugged again. “Did anything else happen last week that you want to tell me about?” Yuuri nodded. “Let’s hear it.” Luzia smiled.

And so Yuuri started telling Luzia about how they’re able to land Salchows now and how practice last week went great. She didn’t understand much of the skating terminology they used, but she fed off of Yuuri’s enthusiasm. If Yuuri was happy about being able to land Salchows, Luzia was delighted, too, and that, for Yuuri, was enough.

#

**(Tuesday, 13 October 2015 – 1:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri’s session was over, and they were hoping to get in some practice today. They were waiting for the bus that would take them to the rink.

> Christophe: I’m going to call you, cutie.
> 
> : Right now?
> 
> Christophe: Yep!

Yuuri’s phone rang when they were putting in their earbuds. “Hello?” Yuuri said and cleared their throat.

“Hey, cutie!” Christophe said. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Yuuri was silent. “Um, how are you?”

“I’m good. Just getting ready to go to practice,” Christophe said. “Victor tells me that you like figure skating. Are you going to watch the events this year?”

“That is the plan.” The bus came, and Yuuri got on. They took a seat in the back; there’s no one there, and they would have the space to draw uninterrupted. “Victor tells me that you’re going to the Rostelecom Cup.”

“I am. We – Victor and I – are also going to Skate Canada later this month.” You could hear Christophe smile through the phone. “It’s going to be fun. So be sure to watch us skate!” Yuuri giggled and took out their sketchbook. They didn’t know what they were going to draw yet.

“I’ll be sure to watch.” Yuuri smiled. They decided to draw a pair of figure skates. The last time they drew in their sketchbook was two weeks ago, and they drew this girl on the bus. “How’s getting ready for practice going?”

“It’s going well. I’m getting dressed right now.” Yuuri started drawing. “What are you doing, cutie?”

“I’m drawing.”

“Ah! What are you drawing?”

“I’m drawing skates.”

“Send pics,” Christophe said. “I bet your artwork is good.” Despite barely starting, Yuuri snapped a flick of their drawing and sent it to Christophe. “That’s a very impressive skate,” Christophe said, tongue-in-cheek.

“I barely started,” Yuuri said. Christophe laughed. “Victor tells me that you like long phone calls.”

“I do!” Christophe sounded like he was moving something. “They’re very intimate. And I hope we can become intimate.”

“…What?” Yuuri was confused by Christophe’s phrasing.

“Intimate friends, honey. I hope that we can become intimate friends.”

“I see.” Yuuri cracked a smile.

“Have I shown you pictures of my cat?” Yuuri told him that he didn’t. “I must show you my baby!” Yuuri’s phone started buzzing repeatedly. It’s pictures of Christophe’s cat. “This is Jana. She is my baby.” Yuuri smiled at the pictures of Jana.

“She’s gorgeous.” Yuuri continued drawing. “Do you like cats?”

“I love them very much,” Christophe said. “They’re so gracious and perfect.” Yuuri’s phone started buzzing again. It’s more pictures of Jana. Then Yuuri’s phone buzzed again. This time it’s Victor.

> Victor: Did you have an appointment today? How’d it go?
> 
> : It went well. My doctor was pleased to see me. She’s usually happy to see me.
> 
> Victor: Ah, that’s lovely ((sparkling heart emoji))
> 
> Victor: What’s your doctor’s name? I’ve never asked that.
> 
> : Maria Luzia.

“Do you like cats, Yuuri?”

“Cats are beautiful, Christophe.”

“Call me ‘Chris,’ honey,” Christophe insisted. “You don’t need to say my full first name.” Christophe figuratively smiled through the phone. “How do I say your name? Yuuri, right?”

“Yes, like that,” Yuuri said.

“Ah, lovely.” Christophe stopped. “Do you want to say ‘hi’ to Jana?”

“Um, sure.” Christophe put down his phone and went to get Jana.

> Victor: Chris texted me to tell me that he was on the phone with you.
> 
> Victor: What is he talking about?
> 
> : He’s talking about his cat. He wants me to say ‘hi’ to her.
> 
> Victor: Tell Jana I say ‘hi.’

“Okay, I got Jana,” Christophe said. Yuuri heard something rub against the phone.

“Hello, Jana,” Yuuri said. “Victor says ‘hi,’ too.” Jana rubbed her head against the phone again. “You are very pleasant, Jana.” Christophe was giggling.

“Jana is very flattered,” Christophe said. “I’d love to talk longer, but I really must get going to practice. It was very nice to talk to you, Yuuri.”

“It was very nice to talk to you, too, Christophe.” Christophe made incoherent sounds. “I’ll let you get ready now. Bye.”

“Bye, cutie.” Yuuri hung up and continued to draw. The lines they were making were looking uneven. Probably because they were on the bus and they kept going over bumps. “Maybe I shouldn’t have sat in the back of the bus,” Yuuri mused. They gave up trying to draw and just decided to ride their bus to the rink.

#

**(Tuesday, 13 October 2015 – 5:25pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Hi, poupée,” Phichit said as they came through the door. “How was your session? How’s Luzia?” Phichit was nose-deep in a textbook.

“Session was nice. Practice was nice. And Luzia is good.” Phichit nodded. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to study.” Yuuri nodded. “I’d love to talk about the intricacies of your appointment with Luzia, but I really can’t right now, poupée.” Yuuri sat down next to Phichit and took out their sketchbook. Then they got up to change out of their clothes. They came back in Phichit’s t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants with cupcakes on it. “What are you doing?”

“I’m drawing.” Phichit nodded. Yuuri resumed work on the skates. “What class are you studying for?”

“I’m studying for my Eastern religions class.” Phichit closed his textbook. “Yuuri,” Phichit said, “how bad is it that I know nothing about Buddhism and I’m Buddhist?” Yuuri stopped drawing and looked at Phichit. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” Yuuri nodded. “Ah! I’m going to fail!”

“You don’t have any evidence to prove that you’re going to fail.” Yuuri is using something they learned in therapy. “You have just as much evidence that you might pass than if you might fail.” Phichit looked at Yuuri. “You know I’m right.”

“Did Luzia teach you that?” Yuuri nodded. “She’s taught you well. Well done, Luzia.” Yuuri smiled. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m still going to fail, though,” Phichit said. Yuuri deadpanned. “Sorry, poupée. You tried.” Yuuri shrugged and continued to draw skates.

#


	18. Solar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor couldn't resist his curiousity and looks through Yuuri's sketchbook while they take a nap and that goes exactly how one could expect.

#

**(Monday, 26 October 2015 – 2:14pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Last week, depression decided to punch Yuuri in their solar plexus and leave them lying there for everyone to figuratively see. Yuuri went to class last week, but they weren’t doing anything. It felt like they were just there to pass the time. Victor has been trying to talk to them, but Yuuri didn’t make any moves to respond. Christophe has been texting them regularly, but Yuuri has been ignoring him. Phichit has been treating Yuuri like nothing’s ever happened, and Yuuri was grateful for that. Khoudia had remarked to Phichit and Coach Cialdini that Yuuri isn’t acting like themselves – whatever that means – and Phichit knows that. Yet Phichit is trying to act like Yuuri is fine.

It’s about time for Yuuri’s math class to end. They didn’t learn anything today; they just kind of drew something that was supposed to be a self-portrait.

“Yuuri!” It’s Victor. Victor came up from behind Yuuri and threw his arm around them. “How are you? I missed you on Friday.” Yuuri stayed silent. “Let’s walk.” Victor held Yuuri's hand, and Yuuri followed them to a secluded corner of the cafeteria. "I had just come from the library, and it was kind of crowded." Yuuri nodded. “How have you been? You look exhausted.” Yuuri put their bookbag on the table.

“I am exhausted.”

"I missed you on Friday," Victor admitted. "What happened? You seemed bothered by something when you texted me on Friday."

“I wasn’t feeling well on Friday. I’m sorry.” Victor nodded. Yuuri took out their sketchbook and started shading their self-portrait. “I’m still kind of out of it. I’m just really… tired.” Victor nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I can tell.” Victor smiled. He squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “You don’t have to apologize to me.” Victor moved closer to Yuuri and threw his arm around them. "You can lean on me; you know that, right?" Yuuri nodded and took Victor’s offer. Yuuri leaned on Victor as comfortably as they could and closed their eyes. But then they wrapped both of their arms around Victor. It was kind of like a hug. Yuuri hasn't been sleeping lately. Recently they’ve been watching Cardcaptor Sakura and Candy Candy with Phichit’s hamsters. They don’t mind watching it with them, but Phichit is kind of bothered that Yuuri’s watching shoujos with his hamsters at four in the morning.

Victor is really warm. That’s probably because he’s wearing a coat.

“Do you have a class after this?” Victor asked. Yuuri nodded. “What class do you have?”

“I have English.” Victor stroked Yuuri’s face gently as Yuuri had their eyes closed. “I’m so tired.” Victor nodded. “Do you have a class?”

“I do.”

“Is it right now?”

“No, thank goodness,” Victor said. “My professor agreed for us to come to class at 3:30.” Yuuri nodded. “What time does your class start?”

“3:30.” Victor stroked Yuuri’s back. “Enough time to get in a quick nap.” Victor smiled. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He placed it on the table by Yuuri’s sketchbook.

"You should go to bed tonight," Victor said. "Have you not been sleeping?"

“No.” Yuuri snuggled up to him; that took Victor aback. "I might try to sleep tonight." Victor lightly stroked Yuuri’s back. “That is if I don’t forget,” Yuuri chuckled.

“Please don’t forget to sleep tonight,” Victor murmured. “I’ll text you to remind you to go to bed. If you want me to, that is.”

“Victor,” Yuuri murmured.

“Yes?”

“I think I'm going to take a nap now.” Victor nodded. “Victor?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For being with me.”

#

**(Monday, 26 October 2015 – 3:25pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri,” Victor nudged Yuuri awake. “It’s almost time for your class.” Yuuri nodded. They sat up and rubbed their eyes. “Are you okay?” Victor cupped Yuuri’s chin and smiled. Yuuri nodded. “Good. I’m glad your nap was beneficial.” Yuuri smiled. It was weak and tired, but it was a smile, nonetheless. “Do you want me to walk you to class?”

“Uh, sure,” Yuuri said, closing their bookbag. They left their sketchbook out; they want to hold that. “What floor is your class on?”

“My class is in a different building.” Yuuri looked at Victor.

“Victor, go to class.”

“No, no, I’ll walk you to class.” Yuuri picked up their sketchbook and looked at Victor’s outstretched hand. “Let’s go.” Yuuri tentatively took Victor’s hand and let him walk them to class. Victor walked Yuuri to their class. “I’ll text you when I get to class.” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll see you later, _солнышко_!”

“Yeah, that,” Yuuri muttered and went inside of their classroom. Yuuri opened their sketchbook to continue working on their self-portrait. They wanted to make their octopus tentacles look better. They were doing that, too, when they noticed that there was writing on the next page. “I hope you’re not bothered by me writing in your sketchbook… that word… I just really wanted you to see this one! — Your Victor,” Yuuri muttered to himself. They froze. “Does that mean that Victor looked through my sketchbook?” The thought was abhorrent to Yuuri. They didn’t want Victor to see their drawings. Especially the reference drawings. “Oh no,” Yuuri was crumbling inside. “He’s seen the sketches…”

Now Yuuri has to try not to cry in the middle of their English class.

#

**(Monday, 26 October 2015 – 6:30pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was walking to the bus stop, lost in their daydream. They tried not to think about Victor looking through their sketchbook, but it was hard. They couldn’t get the thought out of their head. “What if Victor saw the poses?” Yuuri thought. They started trembling. They haven’t even shown their therapist the sketches because they know that some of them would raise many questions. Yuuri makes it so that their sketchbooks are very guarded off, and only very few people get access to them. And Victor gets so close to their sketchbook that they even write in it? It’s baffling how much things have changed. Yuuri used to not let people touch them; now, they’re actively seeking out the touch of this one man. Yuuri started to chuckle to himself. They’ve changed from the moment they set foot in America.

That doesn’t change the fact that Victor looked through their sketchbook, and now they have to put stones in their pocket and walk into the river.

The bus came. And, for a split moment, Yuuri was able to get their mind off of dying.

#

**(Monday, 26 October 2015 – 7:35pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Welcome home, Yuuri,” Phichit said. He was studying again. Yuuri took off their shoes and coat and threw their bookbag on the floor. “Rough day?” Yuuri nodded. “Same.” Yuuri laid on the sofa and on Phichit. "Poupée, you know I don't mind if you lay on me, but I really must read this book. I have an English paper to write that's due tomorrow, and I didn't read this book at all." Yuuri up looked at Phichit.

“Why are you like this, Phichit?”

"I don't know!" Phichit sobbed. "I meant to do my work, and I started strong last month, but I don't want to do this anymore."

“You can do it, mon canard,” Yuuri said. Phichit let out a whine. “We have a month and a half to go.” Yuuri put their head in Phichit’s lap. “I believe in you.” Phichit looked down at Yuuri and stroked their head. They smiled.

“Mon poupée, can you do me a favor?” Yuuri nodded. “You’ve read The Metamorphosis, right?” Yuuri nodded. “Can you help me with my paper? I’ll write a draft. Can you look over it for me?” Yuuri nodded again. “Thank you so much, poupée.” Yuuri smiled. Phichit kissed Yuuri and let them sit up. "Are you going to watch anime now?" Yuuri nodded. “Candy Candy or Cardcaptor Sakura?”

“Neither.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to watch either Oniisama e… or Revolutionary Girl Utena,” Yuuri said. “Which one would you pick?” Yuuri set their laptop up.

"If you watch Oniisama e…, you're just going to cry and be confused by all-girl school drama." Yuuri nodded. “If you watch Revolutionary Girl Utena, you’re going to be… I don’t know, Yuuri. Do what you want.” Yuuri nodded again. Phichit was bothered by the idea of his poupée being mentally torn apart by Revolutionary Girl Utena, but he couldn’t stop them. “Which one are you going to go with?”

“Probably Revolutionary Girl Utena. I’ve heard that it’s surreal.” They sat in silence.

“Yuuri, how does it feel to be able to watch anime without subtitles?”

"I feel like a superior being amongst men, Phichit." Phichit laughed. "But, then again, I am Japanese, and I was born and raised in Japan, so it'd be a huge disappointment if I didn't know Japanese. I would be the failure my parents don't want to refer to me as because of appearances, but know I am deep down."

“Yuuri, why are you like this?”

“Low self-esteem and depression.” Phichit looked at Yuuri. “Don’t look at me. Look at your book.” Yuuri started watching Revolutionary Girl Utena. “You have homework.”

“Don’t you?” Yuuri looked at Phichit. “Yuuri, do your homework.”

“I can’t. I’m watching anime.” Yuuri turned up the volume. The opening intro is playing. “Take my revolution, Phichit.” Phichit rolled his eyes. “Take my revolution and read your book.” Phichit rolled his eyes again and paid attention to The Metamorphosis. “Let’s live our lives heroically, with style, Phichit.”

“Yuuri, go on your Tumblr and do that there. I can't concentrate."

“Should I get headphones?”

“You don’t have to. Just keep that to yourself.” Yuuri looked at Phichit. “You’re not going to keep it to yourself, are you?” Yuuri shook their head. “Oh dear.”

“I told you that this would happen if we became roommates, and you didn’t listen. Now you must live with the consequences,” Yuuri told Phichit. “Phichit,” Yuuri said.

“Yes?”

“You know something I like?”

“Anime girls, Yuuri. You like anime girls.” Yuuri was grinning. “Yuuri, I love you, but you have to go into the room and watch Revolutionary Girl Utena because you're a distraction." Yuuri agreed that Phichit wasn’t getting any work done with Yuuri talking to him. So Yuuri packed their things and went into their room to watch anime and make jokes that only they will laugh at.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revolutionary Girl Utena is such a good anime, y’all. Y’all should watch it.


	19. A Life Stained Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something almost happened but didn't and now both Yuuri and Victor are confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My homework for the uninitiated is to watch every single episode of Revolutionary Girl Utena because it is that good.

#

**(Wednesday, 28 October 2015 – 8:01am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yesterday, Yuuri took Luzia’s suggestion and got a journal. It was taupe, and Yuuri only wrote one thing in it: “What do I do with this?” Yuuri is not very used to writing down their thoughts. While they were able to write down “do you want to touch me?” and “there’s a taste in my mouth / as desperation takes hold” in their sketchbook, they found themselves unable to bring themselves to be as candid in their new journal. Maybe Yuuri was one of those people who were better at expressing themselves with pictures rather than words. Maybe. Just perhaps. 

“Hey, Yuuri,” Victor said as he came through the door. Yuuri was looking at the journal and at their sketchbook, unsure of what to do with either. They haven’t given their sketchbook any thought since Monday evening. They briefly flirted with the idea of setting it on fire. Phichit wouldn’t let them do that, of course, but the idea was there. “What are you doing? Are you going to draw another body?” Yuuri felt their face warm.

“Y-yeah, I think,” Yuuri muttered. They looked away from Victor and at their sketchbook. “Maybe burning it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, after all,” Yuuri thought. They can’t look at their sketchbook now. 

“Did you see the note I wrote in there for you?” Yuuri nodded. “I hope you didn’t mind that I wrote in your sketchbook.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri muttered.

“Did you like it?”

“It was beautiful,” Yuuri lied. They couldn’t understand a word Victor had written except for their words at the end. “It was very relatable.” Victor smiled.

“I know not what I seek eternally on earth, in air, and sky…” Victor said. “I know not what I seek, but it is something that I have lost…” Victor took out a water bottle and drank from it. “I like Rosalia de Castro.”

“Don’t you like any Russian poets?” Yuuri asked. “You are Russian, after all.”

“I do!” Victor smiled. “I love Pushkin – naturally, of course! Everyone loves Pushkin in Russia.” Victor paused. “There’s Mandelstam. There’s Mayakovsky. There’s, um, there’s Akhmatova and Lermontov and Pasternak.” Victor stopped to catch his breath. “The point I’m trying to make is that I like Russian poets, too.”

“Have you given me any Russian poets?”

“I’ve given you Pushkin before.” Yuuri nodded. “Can I borrow your sketchbook?” Yuuri made a face at Victor’s request. Yuuri tentatively gave it to them. Victor took a fountain pen out of his pocket and started writing in Yuuri’s sketchbook. “You’re not getting a Russian poet today, sadly, but you’ll get one soon.” Yuuri nodded and looked at Victor write.

“You know all of these poems by heart?”

“For the most part,” Victor said. “It’s an unfortunate skill. I read something once, and I remember it very well. You would think that I would have utilized this skill sooner, but I don’t know how to.” Victor stopped writing and drew a little star beside the last word on the line. “It’s sad, but it’s my life,” Victor said and continued writing.

“That’s amazing,” Yuuri said. Victor cracked a smile. Victor gave Yuuri their sketchbook back. “Are you done?” Victor nodded and ran his hand through his ponytail.

“Wait, no, I’m not done yet!” Yuuri gave the sketchbook back to Victor. Victor took the cap off his pen and started writing again. Victor made a heart at the end of a word. “Okay, here,” Victor gave Yuuri’s sketchbook back. Yuuri closed it and placed it in front of them. “You’re not going to look at it?” Yuuri shook their head. Victor stayed silent. Then he opened his mouth to say: “Something’s bothering you. Something different from Monday.” Yuuri shrugged. Victor looked around the class. Almost everyone was inside. Victor took out his phone.

> Victor: We’re talking after class.

Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> : Ok

Victor looked over at Yuuri and squinted.

> Victor: Ok? Ok??? Is that all you have to say???

Yuuri looked down at their phone. Then at Victor. Then back to their phone. 

> : Yes

Victor was defeated. Professor Heiner came in and set up. Yuuri put his sketchbook away, took out their binder, and attempted to pay attention. That didn’t go well. They started writing in their journal and didn’t stop until they were in class for thirty minutes.

#

**(Wednesday, 28 October 2015 – 11:35am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri waited for Victor by the exit of their classroom. He had to talk to Professor Heiner about something. “Skate Canada is in a few days,” Yuuri remembered.

“Do you need something Mr. Katsuki?” Professor Heiner asked. Yuuri was surprised to hear someone say his surname; hell, they were surprised to see that Professor Heiner knows their name. They didn’t say it right, but they were astonished that she knew their name.

“No, I’m just waiting for Victor,” Yuuri said. Professor Heiner nodded. Professor Heiner was a middle-aged woman with blonde hair. She was short, her eyes were brown, and she wasn’t that remarkable. The only thing that stood out from her – that made her different from the other art teachers – is that she, unlike the others in the art department, wasn’t from the state. She had mentioned something about being from Ohio or Indiana or some other Midwest state. Yuuri didn’t know the difference and didn’t care. 

“You might as well take a seat because this might take a while,” she said. Yuuri sat down in the seat by the door. “So, as I was saying,” Professor Heiner continued to Victor, “to keep up with the class, you have to go to the museums in your area and do the work there. I want these works every Thursday by 11:59pm, or else it means failure for that assignment.” Victor nodded. “Do you understand? Should I explain it again?”

“I understood you the first time,” Victor said. Victor looked like he didn’t want to be there anymore. Professor Heiner kept talking. Victor looked at Yuuri; Yuuri was rolling their eyes. Victor smiled.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Very.” Professor Heiner nodded and left the room.

“Is she… Is she done?” Victor nodded. Yuuri got up, and Victor held his hand out to Yuuri. They took it, and they walked to the back of the library. Their usual spot was all clear. Yuuri took out their sketchbook and started drumming their fingers on the cover. Meanwhile, Victor took out Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman. “Now, you said you wanted to talk?” Victor nodded. “Speak, Victor.”

“Are you okay?” Victor asked as he held Yuuri’s hands. He brought Yuuri’s hand to his mouth and kissed the birthmark they had by their thumb. “I’m concerned about you.” Yuuri nodded. “You’ve just been acting differently, and I want to know if there’s anything I can do to… I don’t know. But I do know that you’re just acting differently.” Yuuri shrugged. “Is that all you have to say? Well, do?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri looked at their fingers. “I don’t know what exactly to tell you right now.” Yuuri was stumped for things they could say to Victor. Who tells someone that they’ve been taking their Xanax like they’re Mentos to stave off their depression? And that they’re depressed for no reason at all? No one except Yuuri, their mental health team, and Phichit need to know that type of information.

“Can you at least tell me that you’ll be alright?” Yuuri shrugged. “Yuuri, look at me,” Victor pleaded. Yuuri yielded and tried to look Victor in the eyes. Victor had Yuuri’s hand to his mouth. They gave up on making eye contact, but they looked at Victor’s mouth. Yuuri’s drawn mouths in their sketchbook. Victor leaned in slowly and bit his bottom lip. Yuuri kept their eyes fixed on Victor’s mouth, but then they pulled away. 

“I can’t do this,” Yuuri muttered.

“Do what?”

“This.” Yuuri put their sketchbook in their bag and put on their coat. “I’m going home.”

“Yuuri, you have a math class,” Victor said.

“I don’t care. I’m going home.” Yuuri buttoned their coat and threw their bag on their shoulders. “Text me if you want, Victor,” Yuuri said and left. Victor sat there, stunned and confused by what Yuuri had said and done. And he hadn’t said or done anything at all.

#


	20. The Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's in Canada for the time being and he accidentally expected something weighty.

#

**(Thursday, 29 October 2015 – 7:39pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri didn’t go to practice today because they weren’t feeling well – physically or emotionally. That, and, combined with the sketchbook debacle and Victor moving in to kiss them, they couldn’t deal. They went to the rink yesterday, but that’s when they started to feel unwell. No doubt that Phichit is going to tell Coach Cialdini and Coach Cialdini is going to contact Yuuri or – better – contact Noêmia and Luzia _for_ Yuuri and tell them what’s going on. That’s how these things go for Yuuri. Yuuri decided to make dinner tonight. They felt like trying this spicy beans and rice recipe they found on All Recipes; they already had the ingredients to make it. Yuuri was getting ready to boil the water for the rice when Victor texted.

> Victor: Are you okay?
> 
> : I’m fine.
> 
> Victor: Can I call you?
> 
> : Sure

Victor’s call came through, and Yuuri put Victor on speaker. “Hey,” he said. His voice was husky. “I miss you.” Victor was in Lethbridge for Skate Canada, and so is Christophe. They’ve been posting their pre-skate adventures on Instagram. They’ve been eating, drinking, and cuddling all over Lethbridge, and the media has been eating it up. The two sex gods of the skating world are together, tearing up the town and causing scandals before Skate Canada? Priceless.

But Victor’s only been out of Detroit for a day, so he has no reason to _miss_ Yuuri. In Yuuri’s mind, at least.

“It’s only been a day. You’ll be back soon.”

“I might be back ‘soon,’ but that doesn’t change the fact that I miss you,” Victor said. He moved something off of something. “I would like to see your face right now. May I?”

“Sure.” Victor made a sound of joy as Yuuri propped their phone against the wall so Victor could get a view of Yuuri as they FaceTimed. Yuuri waved at their phone. They were looking at the pot on the stove.

“What are you doing?” Victor asked.

“I’m watching some water boil.” Victor looked confused. “I’m making dinner tonight, and I need boiling water.” Victor nodded.

“Don’t you usually go to practice on Thursdays?” Yuuri nodded. “And your instructor is okay with that? Missing practice, I mean.”

“He knows about my conditions,” Yuuri said. “He just wants me to talk to my doctors about it.” Victor nodded. “My coach is very caring.” Yuuri went into the fridge to get out the jalapeños and onions. They started to chop and seed the jalapeños.

“Are you okay?” Victor asked. Yuuri stopped cutting; then continued. “Yuuri.”

“I’m fine. I’m just a bit under the weather.” That was an understatement. Yuuri was not just under the weather. They’ve been depressed, and they feel that their sense of self has been thrown away. They don’t know who or what or where they are in their life anymore. They’ve been taking Xanax daily to blunt the feeling of dreading life. They couldn’t keep going without a small respite.

Yuuri started thinking about what they’re taking with them to Bordeaux and Moscow next month. “I must remember to get my Xanax,” Yuuri said to themselves.

“I hope whatever ails you goes away soon,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded and wiped the knife. “When I get back, do you want to go on our date?”

“Do you have a specific day in mind?” Yuuri asked. They moved to open the cans of black beans and pour them into a casserole dish. “This should work around your schedule. You’re doing events.” Yuuri opened the cans and internally rolled their eyes at their statement. They’re acting like they’re not doing events either.

“November 6,” Victor said. Yuuri looked at their phone. Victor was smiling. “Are you busy on that day?”

“I don’t think so.” Victor’s smile got wider. Yuuri looked over at the water, and it still wasn’t boiling yet. So Yuuri got to cutting the scallions. “How’s Chris?”

“Chris is fine.”

“I see you got a haircut.”

“Ah! I have a story about that!” Victor told Yuuri about his night with Chris and how Chris tried to do his hair. “And that’s how I learned that I shouldn’t trust Chris with a curling iron.” Victor’s hair was short, curly, and messy now. Yuuri smiled. “I went to the Southern Alberta Art Gallery today.” Yuuri nodded. “Let me send you the pictures I took.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed seven times. “You don’t have to look at them right now.” Yuuri nodded and looked over at the pot. The water still wasn’t boiling. They checked the stove eye, and it was on. So why isn’t it boiling? Yuuri added the chili powder, black pepper, cumin, and jalapeños to the beans and put it in the oven. Yuuri turned the stove eye up.

“What are you doing right now?” Yuuri asked.

“Watching you cook.”

“Where’s Chris?”

“He’s in the pool.” Yuuri made a face. “Yes, he’s in the pool when it’s almost November. It’s Chris. I wouldn’t put too much thought into it.” Victor laughed. The pot of boiling water started to simmer. Yuuri started to measure out the rice. “What are you making for your roommate?”

“Beans and rice.” Victor smiled. “Maybe I’ll cook for you one day.”

“I’d like that.” Victor smiled. He seemed to be lying in a bed. “Have you drawn anything lately?” Yuuri shook their head. “Might I make a suggestion?”

“Sure.”

“Draw us,” Victor said. Yuuri looked into the camera. “Use one of our selfies as a reference.”

“Pick the selfie, and I’ll get around to it.” Victor smiled and went to look for a selfie. The water finally started to boil, and Yuuri added the rice and started to stir. Then their phone buzzed. “Was that the selfie?”

“Yes,” Victor said. He yawned. “I’m exhausted.”

“Then go to sleep. I’ll be here when you want to call me again.”

“Are you sure?” Victor asked. Yuuri nodded. “I think I’ll stay awake. Just for a little bit longer. I want to look at you some more.” Yuuri nodded.

“You’re free to look for as long as you wish.”

“I’m glad.” Victor yawned again.

“What time is it there?” Yuuri asked and covered the rice after they finished stirring.

“It’s 4:50.” Yuuri nodded. “It’s kind of early for me to think about going to bed… So I think I’ll watch you cook.” Victor chuckled. “So, tell me, how did you learn?”

“How to cook?” Yuuri stretched. “My mom taught me at first. After I moved to America, I had to teach myself.” Victor nodded and yawned. “Victor, just go to sleep.”

“I can’t. I’m busy watching you.” Victor shifted. Yuuri started to wiggle their fingers in their peripheral area. “Yuuri, what are you doing?”

“Stimming.” Yuuri stopped and looked at Victor. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just weird.” Victor chuckled. Yuuri took the top off of the pot and stirred the rice again. When Yuuri looked at their phone, Victor was staring at the ceiling. Yuuri covered the rice again and went back to Victor. This went on and on until Victor finally let sleep overtake him. Yuuri took a screenshot of Victor sleeping and ended the call.

> : You fell asleep, so I ended the call. I didn’t want to disturb you.

Then Yuuri decided to read the texts Victor had sent but didn’t have the energy to formulate responses to.

> Victor: It smells like dust and moonlight.
> 
> Victor: i know of a path in your heart / that merges with mine / my sweetheart / i know of a tranquil sea / within me / that mirrors your moon-face / with delight
> 
> Victor: Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears / My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore / Scraping through my head ’til I don’t want to sleep anymore
> 
> Victor: Love is blind, and lovers cannot see / The pretty follies that themselves commit.
> 
> Victor: I miss you a lot.
> 
> Victor: Text back.

“I should ask him why he enjoys sending me weird texts.” Yuuri checked the oven. “Eh. I’ll do that later.”

#

**(Thursday, 29 October 2015 – 9:30pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Phichit was home, and they were eating dinner together. Phichit was telling Yuuri how Khoudia missed them at practice and was close to coming home with Phichit to nurse Yuuri back to health. Yuuri was flattered by the idea but wasn’t very comfortable with Khoudia bending herself backward for Yuuri. Besides, existential despair and anomie can’t be cured with thieboudienne.

“I talked to Victor today.”

“Oh, you started responding to his messages again?” Yuuri nodded. “What prompted that?”

“He asked if I was okay.” Phichit nodded. “Then he asked if he could call me. Then he watched me make dinner and fell asleep.”

“Adorable long-distance boyfriends,” Phichit said while stifling a laugh.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“You say that as you go on museum and coffee dates with him, hold hands, and write each other love notes.” Yuuri deadpanned. Phichit ate a spoonful of rice. “I call it as I see it.” 

“Doesn’t mean he’s my boyfriend,” Yuuri said. “And I do not write him love notes.”

“But, from what you tell me, you two act like it,” Phichit said, ignoring Yuuri’s “love note” rebuttal; Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Plus, he asked you on an actual date. That _has_ to mean something.” Phichit ate another spoon of rice. Yuuri shrugged and looked at their dinner. They made it, but they didn’t feel motivated to eat it. “Is something wrong with the dinner you made?”

“I’m not hungry right now.”

“Is your stomach bothering you?” Yuuri nodded. “Put it in a container. You can come back to it.” Yuuri nodded and did as Phichit suggested.

“Don’t worry about doing the dishes,” Yuuri said as they laid in the fetal position on the sofa. “How was practice? How are Masabeeh and Tal’ at?”

“Practice was fine. And Masabeeh and Tal’ at are being themselves.” Yuuri nodded. “They missed your presence today, too.” Yuuri shrugged. “Do you want to go to bed?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’m home.”

“I know, but I haven’t seen you at all today, and I don’t want to shortchange you on anything.” Phichit put his plate down and stroked Yuuri’s head. “I’m sorry I’m a mess right now.”

“You’re not a mess,” Phichit said. “Now go to bed. Please.” Yuuri complied and took themselves to bed. “Thank you, love!” Phichit shouted from the living room. Yuuri laid in bed, looking at the ceiling. Then they checked their phone for new texts from Victor.

> Victor: I woke up for a bit. I hope your dinner turned out well.
> 
> Victor: And I still miss you
> 
> : Dinner turned out well. Might go to sleep now.
> 
> Victor: If you want, I’ll talk to you until you fall asleep.
> 
> : That’d be nice.

Victor called, and Yuuri put Victor on speaker. “Hello, _солнышко_ ,” Victor said. “How are you?”

“Tired.” Yuuri put their face on their pillow. “Thank you for calling me,” Yuuri said.

“Tout le plaisir était pour moi,” Victor said. Yuuri forgot that Victor knew French. “Did your roommate like the dinner you made?”

“He ate it,” Yuuri said and smiled. “I wish I could’ve eaten it, too. It looked good.”

“Why didn’t you eat?” Victor asked.

“I didn’t feel well,” Yuuri said. “Before I forget, good luck with Skate Canada tomorrow.” Yuuri rubbed their face on their pillow. “I mean, you probably won’t need luck, but –”

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Victor said. “Your well-wishing is much appreciated.” Yuuri yawned into their pillow. “Did Chris call you today? He said he was going to.”

“No, he hasn’t called me today.”

“You sound exhausted, love,” Victor cooed. Yuuri reached for their Zyprexa and took a tablet.

“I’m going to be even more exhausted in a bit. Do you still want to talk to me?”

“Of course!” Victor exclaimed. Yuuri smiled. “I always want to talk to you. I just stop myself because you look withdrawn. I don’t want to overwhelm you with anything.”

“You’re so considerate,” Yuuri said. “What time is it in Lethbridge?” Yuuri got out of bed and went to the desk. They wanted to work on their costumes for their events. When Yuuri wasn’t sleeping, they were watching anime and working on their costumes. Phichit has managed to sleep through all the noise Yuuri has made when they’re busy sewing and measuring and cussing.

“It’s 7:11.” Yuuri nodded. “What are you doing right now? Laying in bed?”

“No, I’m sewing.”

“How domestic.” Victor laughed. “Do you like sewing?”

“It’s calming.” Yuuri was threading their sewing machine. “The act is, I mean. Threading the needle is a bother. When I get ready to thread it, my hands start shaking, and it’s just a mess.” 

“What are you sewing?”

“A costume.” Victor stayed silent. “I’ve already finished the other costumes. They were a nuisance, but they’re finished.”

“Do you usually make costumes?”

“When there’s a need to, I do.” Yuuri finished threading the sewing machine and went into the closet. They had their costume for their free skate hanging up; they had to add some tulle to the skirt. After that, they should be done. “Do you know how to sew?” Yuuri placed their phone near the sewing machine. “I’m sorry if this gets a bit loud.”

“Why would it get loud?”

“Sewing machine.” Yuuri moved their dressing figure to the desk and started to pin the tulle to the skirt waistband. “I should get my headphones or something. Hold on.” Yuuri got their spare headphones out of the drawer and put them in. “Okay. I’m back,” they said as they were pinning the tulle to the elastic. “Victor, there’s something I want you to know,” Yuuri said. “It’s kind of important.”

“What is it, Yuuri?” Victor sounded breathless.

“Are you going to laugh at me about it?”

“Why would I? If it’s important to you, it’s important to me!” Yuuri put their pins down and scratched the palms of their hands.

“Okay, good to know.”

“What did you want to tell me?”

“I really like sewing.” Yuuri resumed pinning the tulle.

“Is… is that it?” Victor asked. “Is that all you had to say? Nothing a bit weightier?”

“No, sadly,” Yuuri said and stopped pinning. “Did you want something weightier?”

“It’s fine,” Victor said. Phichit walked into their room and sat on Yuuri’s bed. Phichit looked unamused, but Yuuri kept their face away from Phichit’s. “Oh, Chris is here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be going out to eat tonight,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded and looked at their skirt. Victor seemed to be choked up over something, but Yuuri couldn’t figure out what it could be that was bothering him. Phichit got up and looked over Yuuri’s shoulder and at their phone. He started to point at the phone wildly, and Yuuri nodded. “Yuuri?” Yuuri stopped making adjustments to their skirt to give Victor their undivided attention.

“Yes?”

“Can you say something for good luck?” Victor asked.

“Didn’t I already wish you luck?” Yuuri asked. They’re confident they already wished Victor luck.

“Do it again. Please.”

“With pleasure…?” Yuuri said, confused by his request. It’s one thing to wish someone luck, but it’s another thing for a four-time world champion to ask a peon for luck. It’s unheard of. However, Victor asked kindly, and Yuuri was taking up his time. “I believe in you, Victor,” Yuuri said. “You are going to do great tomorrow. _Dazo!_ ”

“ _Dazo?_ ”

“Yes, _dazo_.” Yuuri smiled. “I’ll let you get ready for your dinner with Christophe. I don’t want to take up any of your time,” Yuuri said. “I’ll get back to sewing. Text me if you want,” Yuuri said before they moved to hang up.

“Don’t hang up! Not yet. Not… Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Yuuri asked. “Alright then. I won’t hang up yet.” They continued pinning. Then they yawned.

“Thank you.” Victor yawned.

“I’m getting tired.”

“I told you to go to bed!” Phichit whispered loudly. Yuuri waved their hand.

“Is that your roommate?”

“Yes, that’s Phichit,” Yuuri said. “He’s currently upset that I didn’t go straight to bed.”

“Ah, well, I don’t want to keep your roommate upset.” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll let you go to bed now. Goodnight, Yuuri.”

“Goodnight, Victor.” Yuuri hung up and yawned. “Wow, Victor sure can talk,” Yuuri said to themselves and looked over their skirt.

“I told you to go to bed,” Phichit chided. “I said nothing about working on your costume.” Yuuri shrugged. “Go to bed.” Yuuri nodded. “Don’t bother with putting everything away. Just go to bed.” Yuuri moved their dressing figure to the corner of the room. Phichit sat on his bed and yawned. “Yuuri.”

“I know, I know. I’m going to bed.” Yuuri trudged to their bed and laid down. They were face down in their pillow, yawning.

“I told you to go to bed.” Yuuri made a sound. Then they fell asleep.

#


	21. Under the Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri goes to ballet and talks to Chris and Victor.

#

**(Friday, 30 October 2015 – 8:00am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Phichit just left for class, and Yuuri was straightening up. They felt like they were reborn, like there was fresh air in their lungs. They didn’t want to lay in bed; they didn’t want to die today. They just wanted to take life by the reins and take the world by storm. They felt like things were going to be alright for once. Yuuri decided to take the initiative and text Victor first.

> : How was dinner last night?

Yuuri threw their phone on the sofa and continued to sweep and dust and dance throughout the living room. They had to start getting ready for their ballet lesson soon. While they were cleaning, they were thinking about what their life would be like if they didn't decide to pursue a figure skating career – if they chose to continue pursuing ballet professionally. They're sure they wouldn’t have met Phichit and Khoudia and that they wouldn’t have been as close as they were to Yuko and that they wouldn’t have even stepped foot in Detroit.

But they felt that they would have still – eventually – majored in art and dance. If there was something Yuuri loved more than dance, it was art. And Yuuri loved to dance a lot. They enjoyed looking at art, making art, and embracing art in all its forms. 

Yuuri finished sweeping and dancing and went to take a shower for their ballet lesson.

#

**(Friday, 30 October 2015 –** **12:15pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Eduvigis laid on the back of the standing piano with a leg up in the air. Yuuri rolled their eyes and went to get their bag. “So? Any new news?”

“Victor asked me out – without any help from magic,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis smiled. “Wait, there _was_ no magic, right?” Eduvigis shrugged. “This is not very comforting.”

“It doesn’t matter if magic was involved or not,” Eduvigis said. “All that matters is that Victor asked you out, and you said yes.” Yuuri put on some deodorant. “You _did_ say yes, right?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said.

“So what are you going to do? When are you going to go?”

"We're going to go when he comes back from Canada. We're going to an aquarium, and he's making dinner." Eduvigis clapped. “I don’t know how I’m going to eat with him. Drinking beverages around him is hard enough.”

“Speaking of eating…”

“Yes?” Yuuri said as they turned towards Eduvigis.

“It looks like you’ve lost weight.” Yuuri shrugged. “And you look like a raccoon.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri said.

“You know that a ballerina must eat."

“I do. So why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to eat,” Eduvigis said. “Your assignment – if you should choose to accept it – is to eat at least one large meal a day.”

"Do I have a choice in accepting it?"

“No, not really,” Eduvigis said. Yuuri rolled their eyes. “So, eat at least one large meal a day and get some sleep. You look like you need it.” Yuuri sighed and agreed. They got dressed and left Eduvigis’ studio.

When Yuuri got downstairs, they decided to check their phone. They had a text from Victor.

> Victor: Dinner was okay.
> 
> : That’s good. I’m glad you enjoyed it.

Yuuri walked to the bus stop that would take them to Palmer Park. They wanted to walk around for a bit before they went back home.

> Victor: What are you doing right now?
> 
> : I’m waiting for the bus. I’m going to the park.

The bus came, and Yuuri sat at the back of the bus. They didn’t bring their sketchbook; all they had on them – aside from their keys, phone, and headphones – were their mala. Yuuri was confused as to why they had their mala in their coat, but at least they knew that it was there. They started to do a mindfulness exercise, but they kept thinking about Victor and what was eating at them last night. Yuuri had hoped that they didn’t do anything that would upset Victor, but they were doubtful that they were involved in Victor’s moodiness last night.

> Chris: Are you going to watch Skate Canada tonight?

Yuuri stopped their mindfulness exercise and just reblogged things on Tumblr.

> : That’s my intent.
> 
> Chris: Good! Be sure to pay attention to Victor’s routine.
> 
> : I… I was going to do that.
> 
> Chris: Also, pay attention to mine.
> 
> : I was going to do that, too.
> 
> Chris: Let me call you lol

Chris called, and Yuuri picked up. “Yes?” Yuuri kept their mala in their hand and rolled the beads between their fingers.

“Hi, honey,” Chris said. His voice was groggy. He must’ve just woken up. “How are you today? What time is it in Detroit?” Chris yawned.

"It's 11am here. And I'm good. I just finished my ballet lesson for the week." Chris yawned. "Are you still tired?"

"Yeah, I just woke up. It's 8am here." Yuuri nodded. “Victor and I are about to get breakfast. He’s getting ready right now.” Yuuri stayed silent. “How was your lesson? Do you like your instructor?”

“My lesson was fine. And my instructor is excellent, as always.” Chris made a sound. “How’s Jana?” Yuuri snapped their fingers and continued to roll their mala beads between their fingers.

“Jana is excellent. My partner is taking care of her while I’m gone.” Yuuri nodded. They didn’t know Chris had a partner. “I miss Jana so much right now.”

“I can relate. I miss my dog,” Yuuri said. Their stop is coming up soon. Yuuri got up and stood by the entrance.

"You have a dog?!" Chris gushed. "Send pics!" The bus driver stopped, and Yuuri got off the bus. They wanted to sit by the pond in the park. Yuuri briskly walked and sent pictures of Vicchan to Chris. “Your dog is so cute! They look just like Victor’s dog!” Chris prattled. “What’s their name?”

“We call him Vicchan.” Chris made an unholy sound that sounded like screaming. “…Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chris said. “I just… I love animals so much.” Chris sniffled. “What did mankind ever do to deserve pets?” Chris sniffled again. “I’m sorry you have to hear this. I must’ve scared you off.”

“No, you’re fine,” Yuuri assured him.

“Oh, I think Victor is done getting ready. Let me check.” Chris put his phone on speaker. “Vitya, are you ready?”

“Chris, why are you screaming early in the morning?” Yuuri heard footsteps. “Who are you on the phone with? Why are you screaming? What is going on?”

“I’m on the phone with your boyfriend.” Yuuri made a face. Yuuri felt like there was a hole in their chest now. Victor's presence doesn't usually do that to them. Not anymore, at least. They felt that they had to get off the phone and fast. "He's showing me pictures of his dog, and I had a moment." 

“Good morning, Yuuri,” Victor said.

“Good morning, Victor.” Yuuri stopped walking and took a picture of these flowers they saw. “I won’t keep you two from going to breakfast.” Yuuri abruptly hung up and continued walking to the pond. “What was that just now?” Yuuri wondered. Victor’s voice doesn’t usually make them feel like they’re struggling to breathe. Once they got to the pond, they sat there and looked at the still water.

#

**(Friday, 30 October 2015 – 5:25pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri wanted to die again. They didn’t know where the feeling came from. They thought they were fine and that everything was going to be fine this morning, but apparently not because Yuuri didn't want to see anyone or do anything. Phichit had come home from his class, and he was in the living room. 

“Yuuri!” Phichit came into their room. “Are you watching Skate Canada with me tonight?”

“No,” Yuuri muttered from the safety of their fleece blanket. It’s a blanket that has Starry Night Over the Rhône printed on it. It was a gift from their sister once she found out that they like Van Gogh. And, speaking of Mari, she hasn’t called at all lately. That’s not like her at all.

Yuuri made a mental note to call her later.

“Do you not feel well?” Yuuri shook their head. “Did something happen today?”

“I want to lay under the Ambassador Bridge and die,” Yuuri muttered. They pulled the blanket over their head and the screen of their laptop. They want to watch Revolutionary Girl Utena now. Phichit sat next to them and gently patted their back.

“Do you want me to lay with you for a while?” Yuuri pulled the covers from off them and made room for Phichit. Phichit laid next to Yuuri, and Yuuri threw the covers over them. Phichit and Yuuri cuddled. “You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” Yuuri shook their head. “Why are you like this?” Phichit stroked Yuuri’s head. “Have you been avoiding sleep?”

“I don’t know… You know that I’ve just been watching anime all night. So, according to Luzia, I am avoiding.”

“You need to go to sleep,” Phichit said as Yuuri’s phone buzzed. Yuuri nodded and stayed silent.

“Phichit,” Yuuri muttered, “let’s live our lives heroically, with style.” Phichit kissed Yuuri’s forehead. “Let’s find the strength to throw it all away. Strip down to nothing at all.” Phichit smiled.

“Do you want me to watch anime with you? Would that make you happy?” Yuuri stayed silent. “Let’s watch Sailor Moon. You need a break from Revolutionary Girl Utena.”

“But I–”

"You. Need. A break from Revolutionary Girl Utena." Phichit was adamant. "You need a break. You need to watch something lighter than that. It's going to ruin you."

“I am a hardened anime veteran. I’d like to see Revolutionary Girl Utena try and destroy me.” Phichit rolled his eyes.

“If you continue watching it right now, I will spoil everything.” Yuuri looked at Phichit. “Every single thing. Even Anthy –”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Yuuri was flustered. “I’ll watch Sailor Moon with you.” Phichit was smiling.

“Log on to your Crunchyroll, poupée,” Phichit sweetly said. Yuuri did as Phichit asked, and they watched Sailor Moon until Yuuri fell asleep. Which was very soon since Yuuri was painfully exhausted. After all, they haven’t truly slept in days.

> Chris: Your Victor is going up second.
> 
> Chris: Pay attention.

#


	22. Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Halloween and also the second day of Skate Canada.

#

**(Saturday, 31 October 2015 – 10:20am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

It’s Halloween. Yuuri was always amazed by the prospect of children – and adults, sometimes – dressing up and hassling strangers for candy. That simply wasn’t a thing in Japan when they were a child; however, they like the holiday. They and Phichit have been planning their costume since last year. Ever since Phichit had Yuuri watch Sailor Moon, he insisted that they're the gender-bent variant of Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus. So, running with that idea, Phichit said that they would be Sailor Uranus and that Yuuri would be his Sailor Neptune. Yuuri felt like they’re more suited to be Sailor Mercury, but Phichit wanted to do a cute couple's costume with someone. Phichit rationalized that Yuuri is the best person to do a couple’s costume with.

“Yuuri, did you do your wig?” Phichit wants to go all out this year. It’s like this is a Comic-Con event for Phichit. Yuuri was detangling their teal wig right now. “Ah, you’re doing it right now,” Phichit said. Yuuri nodded.

“Do you want me to iron your costume?”

“That’d be lovely, poupée,” Phichit said. “Did you find the mascara?” Yuuri shook their head. “Or the lipstick?” Yuuri shook their head again. “I guess I’ll have to run out and get it.”

“I can’t find my teal eyeliner, either.” Phichit sighed. “I could’ve sworn that I kept all of that in the bathroom.” Yuuri shrugged and gently ran the brush through a section of their wig. It went through flawlessly. “It’s strange how it just disappeared. And I saw it a few days ago, too.” Phichit was stretching. “Same for my mascara.”

“And not your lipstick?” Yuuri shrugged. “You haven’t seen your lipstick at all?”

“Not at all.” Yuuri started to brush their wig. “You know what shade to get me, right?” Phichit nodded. “Thank you,” Yuuri said. Phichit left the room to go to the beauty supply store. Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Chris: Did you see the performances?
> 
> : No. I fell asleep.
> 
> Chris: Pour la honte!
> 
> Chris: Your Victor’s performance was excellent.
> 
> Chris: All of his performances are excellent, but this is one you needed to see.
> 
> Chris: Let me find a video of it.

Yuuri debated on telling Chris that they were busy and that they didn’t have time, but what harm is in a three-minute routine? Christophe sent Yuuri a link of Victor's routine, and Yuuri watched it as they detangled their wig. They thought it was moving.

> Chris: What do you think?
> 
> : That was beautiful.
> 
> : Does Victor usually show that side of him?
> 
> Chris: No.
> 
> Chris: He lives to surprise people.
> 
> Chris: That’s our Victor lol

Yuuri nodded and continued detangling their wig.

> Chris: So wyd cutie
> 
> : I’m preparing my Halloween costume
> 
> Chris: Send pics
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]

Yuuri stopped detangling their wig.

> Chris: I was going to try and guess what you could be, but I honestly have no clue.
> 
> Chris: Is this from a series?
> 
> : Yes. It’s from my roommate’s favorite anime.
> 
> Chris: That’s so cute!
> 
> Chris: So, what’s your roommate going to be?
> 
> Chris: If they do Halloween, that is.
> 
> : Just call me.

In a few seconds, Chris called Yuuri, and Yuuri picked up. “ _Salut_ , cutie!” Chris said. “So, as I was saying, what’s your roommate going to be for Halloween?” Yuuri put their phone on speaker and brushed their wig.

“Well, we’re doing a couple’s costume.” Chris made a sound. “I’m going to be Michiru, and Phichit's going to be Haruka.” After a silence, the sound of Yuuri detangling their wig was all that can be heard. “Christophe?”

“Yes?”

“Just making sure that you’re still there,” Yuuri said as they sprayed the solution of fabric softener and water on a set of tangles. “It’s going to be fun.” Yuuri worked their fingers into the knot.

“Do you like Halloween?”

“It’s one of my favorite Western holidays.” Yuuri worked their comb through one of the smaller tangles. “So, how’s Skate Canada treating you?”

“It’s been well. I got to hang out with some old friends when we touched down. We went out to dinner, got drinks, made jokes. It’s a bonding experience. Well, it is before the events start.” Chris laughed. “We form our rivalries, but it’s just fun.” Yuuri nodded and continued to detangle their wig. “Yuuri,” Chris said, “I’d hate to get involved in your relationship with Victor, but Victor’s upset.”

“I had figured,” Yuuri murmured, still detangling this one knot.

“Can you just call him and talk to him for a bit?” Yuuri worked the knot out finally and continued to work. “Please.”

“I’ll call him,” Yuuri said. “I can’t promise you that the conversation will be productive by any means, but, if it means so much to you, I’ll yield and talk to him.”

“Thank you, Yuuri. If I ever get to Detroit, I’ll be sure to buy you a round.” Chris hung up. Yuuri couldn’t believe that they said that they would yield to Chris for Victor’s sake. Yuuri stopped detangling their wig and looked at their hands. Yuuri doesn't like this in the slightest, but they called Victor and put their phone on speaker.

“Hello? Victor?”

“Hello,” Victor said. “I miss you.”

“It’s only been what? Two? Three days?” Yuuri said.

“I know, but I feel far away from you,” Victor said.

“Well, you are far away from me,” Yuuri pointed out. “You’re in Lethbridge, and I'm in Detroit. You're far." Victor chuckled.

“What are you doing right now?” Yuuri sprayed the solution on their wig.

"I'm detangling a wig." Victor made a sound. "What you hear right now is a spray bottle," Yuuri said. “My roommate and I are going trick or treating today.”

“You're going trick or treating?” Victor asked. “Well, I hope you have fun and get a lot of candy.” Yuuri nodded and started brushing their wig. “About Thursday…”

“Yes?” Yuuri was detangling the last section of their wig now. After this, they planned on ironing their costumes. “Victor? Do you have something to say?”

“I just miss you a lot right now.” Victor cleared his throat. “Do you miss me?” Yuuri got up and went to take their last Xanax. They’ve been taking them every few hours to try and stave off their anxiety, and they’ve finally run out. Then they went back to detangling their wig. “Hold on.” Yuuri’s phone started buzzing. “Dinner with Chris was fun. We took selfies.” Yuuri nodded. Their phone started buzzing again. It’s more pictures, no doubt. Yuuri looked at the photos and saw the last text Victor had sent.

Victor: But love is blind, and lovers cannot see / The pretty follies that themselves commit

“Victor, I have a question.” There was silence on the other end. “Why did you send me a line from The Merchant of Venice?” They didn’t recognize any of the additional quotes Victor had sent them. Well, they caught one, but it was so absurd and unlikely that Victor knew what they were saying.

“Oh, good, you recognized the quote,” Victor said. Yuuri stopped scrolling and continued to detangle their wig. “Have you drawn anything recently?” Yuuri squeezed the handle of the brush.

“No,” Yuuri muttered. “I haven’t been in the mood to draw recently. I haven’t been in the mood to do anything.” They finished with detangling the wig and started to brush it absentmindedly. Yuuri heard the door open and shut; Phichit just left. “Victor, why do you send me weird texts?” Victor made a sound. “Like, a few days ago you sent me ‘It smells like dust and moonlight’ and ‘Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears / My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore / Scraping through my head 'til I don't want to sleep anymore.’”

“Why don’t you send me weird messages?”

“I don’t believe in sending weird messages.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed. “Did you send another weird message?” Victor responded in the affirmative. “I’m not going to respond to that.” There was another long silence.

“Do you still want to go to the aquarium?”

“Yes,” Yuuri muttered. “Hold on.” They stopped brushing the wig, grabbed their phone, and went into the kitchen to set up their ironing area. They got the iron out of the cabinet and the blankets from the drawer. “Continue.” Yuuri started with Phichit’s skirt. Yuuri made practically everything themselves – from the shirts and collars to the skirts. The only things they didn’t make were the accessories and shoes.

“About your sketches, Yuuri, I–”

“Don’t want to hear it,” Yuuri turned Phichit’s skirt over and started ironing the back.

“I like the sketch you made of us sleeping,” Victor blurted out. Yuuri stopped ironing Phichit's skirt and looked at the creases. "I just wanted to tell you that."

“Okay,” Yuuri said.

“When I come back, I want to give you something,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. "I hope you'll like it." Yuuri nodded again and resumed ironing. Then they started to iron Phichit’s shirt. “How’s your roommate?” Victor asked, trying to change the subject.

“He’s fine.”

“Where is he? In class?”

“No, he went to go get eyeliner,” Yuuri said. "Victor, this conversation is awkward, and I don't want to continue it. Just text me." Yuuri ended the call and continued to iron. They even lightly ironed their tights. Then they checked their texts and decided to respond to Victor’s last text.

> Victor: Use the moon to steal the sun’s kiss
> 
> : When the night is at its quietest, I can hear death.
> 
> Victor: what

Yuuri put their clothes on a hanger and hung them on the wall. Then they decided to shower and clean up until Phichit came back. They said that they were going to get ready together.

#

**(Saturday, 31 October 2015 –** **11:11pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Trick or treating was a success, and the haul was more than modest. "Yuuri, do you want to watch the free skates with me? I found a place where we can watch the entire event." Phichit was out of his costume and makeup and was wearing his hamster onesie. He was reclining on the sofa and had his legs open, waiting for Yuuri to take a seat between them.

“Sure,” Yuuri said. They were still wiping their lipstick off. Phichit's laptop was on the coffee table; their table tchotchkes were surrounding it. Yuuri was in their pajamas with the moon and stars on it. They were blue and soft, and Yuuri loved them. They also happened to be women’s pajamas, but they didn’t care about that. They were comfortable. Yuuri got beverages for them and sat in between Phichit’s legs and leaned back. Yuuri wanted to bring the hamsters in the living room so they can watch the event, too, but Phichit insisted that they needed to sleep.

“What song are you using for your short?” Phichit asked as he waited for the stream recording to buffer.

“Ciao Ciao and I decided on Heart by Yiruma.” Yuuri stretched their legs and placed their feet on the arm of the chair. “He thinks I can skate to it. I’m going to trust him.”

“I can’t wait until I get to compete with you!” Phichit gushed as he ran his hands through Yuuri’s hair. “It’s going to be great!” Yuuri smiled. “We should do couples skating. That’d be fun.”

“We can’t. It’s one guy and one not guy.” Phichit looked at Yuuri. “It’s tragic, I know.” Yuuri stretched their legs. Despite their infrequent usage of female pronouns and their female feelings, Yuuri likes skating in the men’s division. “If things were different, I would love to skate with you.” Phichit smiled. Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

“I got it,” Phichit said. “Victor said, ‘Tonight’s skating was fierce.’ What do you want me to say?”

“Say ‘I could imagine’ for me?” Phichit nodded and gave Yuuri their phone. “Thank you, mon chou.”

“No problem, mon canard.” Yuuri yawned. “We can start watching now. Sit up.” Yuuri sat up, and Phichit leaned over to play the live stream. Phichit returned to his prior position, and Yuuri leaned back. “Yuuri, you ever think about how this is weird?” Yuuri pulled the blanket over them.

“In what way?”

“In the way that you’re bigger than me. Shouldn’t you be on the outside?” Yuuri shrugged. “You’re bigger, so you should be the big spoon.”

“I just got comfortable.”

“I know, but you’re the bigger spoon, so we should switch.” 

"I literally just got comfortable." Phichit rolled his eyes. "Aw, who's my favorite?" Yuuri said as they stroked Phichit’s face.

“Victor.” Yuuri deadpanned. “Yuuri, you like Victor. And when I say ‘like,’ I don’t mean as a friend, athlete, or person.” Yuuri looked up at Phichit. “That isn’t to say that you don’t like Victor as a friend, athlete, or person, but you like him more than that.” Phichit stroked Yuuri’s face. Yuuri focused on the announcers. "Don't pretend like you didn't hear me." 

“I heard you.”

“So?”

“So… So, I don’t know.” Yuuri shrugged and scratched their thigh. “But, no matter how much I may or may not like Victor, you will always be my favorite.” Yuuri shifted so they were laying on their side. “We're platonic life partners, remember?” Phichit sucked his teeth and smiled. “You can't be mad at me for too long,” Yuuri said as they poked Phichit’s cheek.

“You're right.”

“How did we even become life partners?” Yuuri asked.

“We were boyfriends.” Yuuri nodded. The audience started clapping.

“We should watch the skating,” Yuuri said.

“Yeah. Let's watch the skating,” Phichit said. And they watched the skating. Then Phichit had a question. “Yuuri, why have you been taking your Xanax like they are breath mints?" Phichit wrapped his arms around Yuuri. “Does Xanax help with depression?” Yuuri shook their head. “Then why are you taking them so frequently?”

“I’m anxious and depressed, mon chou.”

“Is taking Xanax while you're depressed a good idea?” Yuuri looked up at Phichit. “You don't know, do you?” Yuuri shook their head. “I love you, but you're so irresponsible at times.” Yuuri shrugged. “Don't take your Xanax like that anymore. Please.”

“I won't. I need to get my refill anyway.” Phichit cuddled up to Yuuri. Phichit felt Yuuri’s stomach growl.

“You haven't been eating, either.”

“I know,” Yuuri muttered. “I don't want to talk about why I'm depressed right now. Plus, we’re supposed to be watching men’s figure skating.”

“Right, right,” Phichit said, “let's just watch men's figure skating.” Yuuri’s and Phichit’s phone buzzed. Phichit leaned over to grab their phones. Yuuri took theirs and looked at the screen. "Who texted you?"

“Khoudia. You?” Yuuri unlocked his phone. “Same?” Phichit nodded.

> Khoudia: Phichit told me you two went trick or treating. Send pics.
> 
> : [has sent attachments]
> 
> Khoudia: Y'all cute, and you need to stop it.
> 
> Khoudia: Like right now.
> 
> Khoudia: My heart can't take it.

Yuuri sent the pictures they took of Phichit and themself. A lot of people liked their costumes today. "Phichit, pose!" Yuuri took a selfie of him and Phichit.

> : [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Khoudia: You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?
> 
> Khoudia: You two are too cute for words.
> 
> Khoudia: Just… [Lauryn Hill voice] killing me softly.

Yuuri showed Phichit his phone. “Khoudia is being extra.” Phichit giggled. “I’m glad that together we have the power to stop hearts and ruin lives.” Yuuri snuggled up to Phichit. “What should we do with this power of ours?” Yuuri shrugged. “I say that we should go out and do what we do best: ruin lives.” Phichit giggled. “Whose life should we ruin first?”

"I'd say mine, but my life is already ruined,” Yuuri said. Phichit made a face. “I suppose we'll just ruin some lives later. Shouldn't we be watching Skate Canada?”

“You and I both know that we're not going to watch this live stream.” Yuuri nodded. “Do you want to just go to bed?” Yuuri nodded again. “Yeah, let's just go to bed.” Yuuri reluctantly got up and grabbed Phichit's laptop for him. Phichit took their phones, and they went to bed.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you, space cowboy.


	23. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri put the finishing touches on their date plans.

#

**(Wednesday, 4 November 2015 – 8:00am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri awoke to the sound of a woman shrieking this morning. They asked Phichit if they heard it, too, but he didn’t, so Yuuri wrote that off as another hallucination. Yuuri made a note of the hallucination in their journal. On Tuesday, Luzia told them to try to write in their journal. So that’s what they’re doing: writing in their journal.

“Hi, Yuuri!” Yuuri looked at the door. Victor is back. Yuuri didn’t expect him to come to class today. Victor took his seat next to Yuuri. He looks exhausted. “What are you doing?”

“My doctor asked me to start journaling,” Yuuri said as they continued to write. They don’t tell people that they go to therapy; they think it’s one of those things that are better left unsaid. 

“So she asks, and you do it?” Yuuri nodded.

“She asked nicely,” Yuuri said. “Plus, I like my doctor. Why wouldn’t I do as she asked?”

“So you’re saying that if you like someone, you will do what they’d ask?”

“That’s the gist of it, yes,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled. “I just love my doctors, roommate, and coach so much.” Victor looked away from Yuuri. “That’s what makes deferring to them easier.” Victor nodded. “We’re still going on our date on Friday, right?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah,” Victor said as he looked back at Yuuri. “Are we going to the museum on Friday?” Yuuri stopped writing. “What did we see last time we went to the museum?”

“The last collection we saw was the Art of Asia one, I think.”

“I remember that we said that we’d see the Islamic Collection together after the Art of Asia one. We were supposed to go the week after, but you canceled on me.” Yuuri nodded. “Are you going to tell me why you couldn’t make it?”

“You wouldn’t understand it, I’m afraid,” Yuuri said. They started writing again. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day when I’m able to get past all of the anxiety surrounding it.” Victor stayed silent. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Victor said. “Can we discuss something?”

“Sure. What do you want to discuss?”

“Your self-portraits.” Yuuri stopped writing and closed their journal. “Just want to know if you’re okay.”

“Why do you want to know if I’m okay?”

“Well, one of your self-portraits has you with tentacles for eyes and tentacles coming out of your mouth.” Victor looked at his desk. “It’s just kind of a weird thing to draw.” Yuuri looked at their hands. “And then there’s the Cyclops one. And then there’s this one I don’t understand.”

“Art is not meant to be understood,” Yuuri said.

“But are you okay? That’s my main concern.”

“No, I’m not. Next question,” Yuuri said. Victor stayed silent. That was probably the closest thing Victor was going to get to Yuuri being open about their feelings and what they do. Yuuri resumed journaling.

“Why aren’t you okay?”

“Because –” Yuuri cut themselves off. “I’m not sure how to talk about it.” They wiped their face; they were sweating. “If I knew how to talk about it, I would.”

“Will you ever be okay?”

“No. I’d like to stop it with the questions for now.” Victor took out his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the time. It’s 8:15.” Victor bit his lip. “We have time for more questions.”

“We do. I don’t want to answer more questions.” Yuuri put their journal away and took out their sketchbook. They’re trying to get used to looking at it again. “I hope you can respect me not wanting to answer any more questions right now.” Victor nodded and reached into his pocket. They slid a note across Yuuri’s desk. “Oh, a note you didn’t write in my sketchbook for once,” they said, tongue-in-cheek. Victor deadpanned.

“Open it,” Victor said with a smile. Yuuri was confused. “Open it!”

“Alright, alright!” Yuuri hastily opened the note and looked at it. “What time is it?”

“8:17.” Yuuri didn’t have a valid excuse for not reading it right now. “It’s Akhmatova today.” Yuuri looked for a word they could recognize. They were able to recognize “unfair” and “mute,” but not much else. Yuuri supposed that it was an alright poem. “One of my earliest introductions to poetry was by way of Anna Akhmatova.” Yuuri nodded. “I was introduced to Pushkin, too, but I don’t think he counts.”

“Why?”

“Everyone in Russia loves Pushkin. He’s our national poet.” Yuuri nodded. “So I don’t think he counts. But I did grow to appreciate him later.” Victor smiled. “Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“I have to tell you something.” Yuuri felt their heart beat faster. “What is this?” Yuuri asked themselves. They nodded as they analyzed their thoughts. “Are you ready?” Yuuri nodded. Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand and said: “I really like poetry.” Yuuri looked at Victor, at their hand, and deadpanned. Victor was fighting a smile. Why is he so happy about this?

“Let go of my hand,” Yuuri said.

“Are you upset?” Victor asked. Was Yuuri upset? Why would they be? Why _should_ they be? It’s not like Yuuri expected anything emotionally from Victor. 

“I’m not upset,” they told Victor. Victor moved his desk closer to Yuuri’s. “What are you doing?”

“Moving closer.”

“Why?”

“So I can do this!” Victor moved close enough to reach out and touch Yuuri’s face. He kept his hand on their face. Victor attempted to look Yuuri in the eyes, but Yuuri wasn’t trying to meet his gaze. “Yuuri. Look at me.”

“Can we do this later?”

“This?” Victor asked. Yuuri removed Victor’s hand from their face and pushed it towards Victor’s chest. “Hm, later then.” Yuuri opened their sketchbook and selected a fresh, new page for them to doodle on. “What will I draw today?” Yuuri asked themselves. They looked over at Victor. “Could I draw him like this?” They mused. “No. I won’t draw him like this,” they told themselves. Yuuri took out their phone. Professor Heiner has three minutes to come and disperse this awkward energy.

“Hello, all!” A girl said as she came into the room. Yuuri recognized her from their calculus class. Had this person always done that when she came into class? Or had Yuuri been so enthralled with their interactions with Victor that they blocked everything and everyone else out? Then they wondered if people took note of Yuuri and Victor’s interactions in class. That thought makes them feel uncomfortable.

> : Had that girl always done that?
> 
> Victor: I… don’t think so?
> 
> : Hm. Peculiar.

Victor looked over at Yuuri. Yuuri was debating within themselves on what to draw. “I could draw those flowers from Friday,” they muttered to themselves.

“Pardon?”

“I was just thinking out loud.” Yuuri unlocked their phone and found the picture they took of the flowers on Friday. “Those were some lovely flowers,” Yuuri thought. They started sketching; Professor Heiner came in when they were one-fourth the way finished. She came in and started talking and talking, and no one was trying to pay attention.

#

**(Wednesday, 4 November 2015 –** **11:11pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri finished the flowers by the end of the class. Victor was doodling something, too. Yuuri nudged Victor to get his attention. He eagerly paid attention to Yuuri as he was packing his things. They walked out of their classroom and into the back of the library.

“Now, what was it that you didn’t want to do in class?” Victor asked as he sat down.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. They made themselves comfortable in their little corner of the sofa. They were looking at their fingers as they squeezed their sketchbook.

“Hm,” Victor said, “do you usually avoid things?” Yuuri’s fingers went white. The question was asked in such a way that it reminds Yuuri of Luzia. Yuuri was hesitant to answer him. “Do you?”

“I’m working on not avoiding things,” was the only answer Yuuri can give him. “But is it avoidance if I said that we could do this later?”

“I don’t even know what we’re doing!” Victor exclaimed. Yuuri shushed him. “Sorry.” Yuuri stopped squeezing their sketchbook and let the color return to their fingers. “I’m really excited for our date on Friday,” Victor said. “You never answered me, though.”

“Answered you about what?”

“Do you want to go to the museum before we go to the aquarium?” Yuuri shrugged. “Don’t make me make the decision.” Yuuri shrugged again and looked at the pattern on their sketchbook. “Yuuri, don’t act like this.”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri muttered. “You make the decision.” Victor made a face.

“We have enough notes on the art to be able to get away with not going to the museum, right?” Yuuri nodded. “Okay, no museum then. Are you doing anything else on Friday?” Victor asked.

“I have ballet.”

“Is it imperative that you go?” Yuuri was silent. “What time is your lesson?”

“9am.” Victor nodded. 

“I’ll come for you at 6pm.” Yuuri nodded. They started squeezing their sketchbook again. Victor grabbed their hands. “Stop squeezing your sketchbook. You’re going to damage it.”

“Why are you so interested in my sketchbook?” It was Victor’s turn to be silent. “I know you looked through it.”

“You’re right. I did, and I couldn’t help myself,” Victor admitted. “And I saw the loveliest sketches in there.” Yuuri’s face felt warm. “I like the ones with us. They’re nice. I think about them a lot,” he said. “And, if you want to touch–”

“Do you have anything else to say about my sketches?” Yuuri had to cut him off. They didn’t want to hear about the phrases they’ve written in their sketchbook. Yuuri felt that those were possibly worse than their sketches.

“Bring your sketchbook tomorrow. I’d like to watch you draw.” Yuuri nodded. “Also, could you explain the bodies you’ve drawn?” Yuuri looked up at Victor. “Specifically, the male ones in the poses.” Yuuri knew what poses he was talking about. “Can you?”

“I take my feelings and put them into my art, so I don’t have to acknowledge them.” Victor kept his eyes fixed on Yuuri. “Does that help?”

“It helps a lot,” Victor said and let go of Yuuri’s hands. “Do you want me to walk you to your math class?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Yuuri lied. They were dazed by Victor saying that he likes and thinks about the sketches Yuuri has drawn of them together. “I’ll get going to class now. See you.” Yuuri got up, but Victor held on to their arm. “Do you need something?”

“One more thing and I’ll let you go to class.” Yuuri sat back down and slid back into their spot. “When I told you my name, how did you feel?” Victor let go of Yuuri’s arm.

“Anxious. I didn’t know why you were here, what you wanted from me, and if I was good enough for you to speak to.” Victor waited for Yuuri to say more. “I really must go to my math class.”

“And I’ll let you go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Victor smiled and let Yuuri go to their math class. He took out The Martian Child. He finished Rubyfruit Jungle last night.

#

**(Wednesday, 4 November 2015 – 6:39pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was helping Phichit with dinner tonight. Phichit called Yohani to ask how to make _arroz con coco_. Yuuri loved how Phichit would get excited over cooking. So, naturally, it didn’t make sense to them that Phichit decided to be a political science major. Yuuri was assigned to frying the fish; Phichit wanted to make the rice himself.

“Remember that if your coconut milk has a stabilizer, you have to add some vegetable oil to it before you add the rice,” Yohani said. She was tapping something that sounded plastic.

“Thank you for helping me, Yohani,” Phichit said as he stirred the coconut milk in the pot. He swears up and down that stirring it will keep it from sticking.

“It’s no problem, baby,” she said. “I see Yuuri in the background, looking all domestic.” She laughed. “You two are so cute together.”

“We know,” Yuuri said as they rinsed the fish again. Yuuri and Phichit get that a lot.

“Is Diosmari back yet?” Yuuri asked.

“No, not yet. I should get off the phone before she comes back and finds out you’re making _arroz con coco_.”

“Why?” Phichit asked.

“Because she’ll come over and eat all of your food. I’m trying to save y’all here.” Yohani laughed. “Alright, text me if you need help with the rice. You know I don’t put down my phone for nobody.” Yuuri nodded. “Second thought, now I want _arroz con coco_. I’ll make some tonight, too. Thanks for the dinner idea, y’all.” Phichit and Yuuri chuckled. “I’ll leave y’all alone. Ciao!” Yohani ended the call, and Phichit put his phone to sleep. 

“Why don’t we hang out with Yohani and her friends more?” Phichit asked. “I almost forgot how cool she and Diosmari are.”

“They haven’t told you about any parties recently, so we haven’t had the chance to,” Yuuri casually said as they started to season the fish. “Why don’t you text Jada and ask if she’s heard of any good events?” Jada is part of this group of Caribbean girls who circuit the party and nightclubbing scene in Detroit. Yohani and Diosmari are, too. The girls love Yuuri and Phichit, and they always make sure to keep them in the loop about events they think they’d like. 

“Are you in the mood to party?”

“If it’s on Saturday, maybe.” Phichit made a face and added the vegetable oil to the coconut milk. “My date is on Friday, remember?”

“Oh! Right!” Yuuri nodded. “I’m still picking out your clothes. You are going to look great at the… where did you say you two were going?” Phichit added the rice, the brown sugar, and the salt, and stirred.

“We’re going to the aquarium to look at some marine life. Then we’re going back to his place for dinner. He said he’s picking me up at 6pm.”

“That gives me just enough time to do your hair, too,” Yuuri made eye contact with Phichit as they shook the fish in the bag of seasoning. “Yes, I’m doing your hair also.”

“I can do my hair.”

“Not for this date you can’t.” Yuuri kept shaking the fish and didn’t break the eye contact. “You can look me in the eye all you want. You’re not going to win,” Phichit said. “Also, your eye contact skills are weak.”

“Just like me.” Phichit chuckled at Yuuri’s statement. He stopped stirring and got the oil ready so Yuuri can fry the fish. “How good are you at multitasking, mon chou?” Phichit asked.

“Fairly well.”

“Good, because I’m going to need you to stir while I get the pan ready for you.” Yuuri started stirring the rice and seasoning the fish. “Thank you, poupée.” Yuuri watched Phichit clean and pour oil in the pan as they were stirring the rice and shaking the fish. “You know you don’t have to look at me at work, right?”

“I know.”

“You can stop shaking the fish now,” Phichit said. He took the bag out of Yuuri’s hand and placed it on the counter. Phichit poured the oil and turned on the stove eye. “Keep stirring!” Yuuri stirred the rice furiously. “I said stir not swirl, Yuuri.”

“I know what you said.” Yuuri stopped stirring, and the coconut rice sloshed against the walls of the pot and the spoon. 

“Keep stirring.” Yuuri resumed stirring. Phichit gave Yuuri two boxes of raisins.

“What are these for?”

“The rice.” Yuuri looked at the box of raisins and the rice. “Add them, Yuuri,” Phichit demanded. Yuuri took a break from their stirring and opened the raisins and added them to the rice. Then they continued to stir. “Thank you.”

“Is the oil hot yet?” Phichit put his hand over the oil. It always scares Yuuri when he does that. “Yes? No?”

“Not yet,” Phichit said. He removed his hand from over the oil and shook the fish. “Yuuri, stop stirring the rice and grab your phone.” Yuuri gave the spoon to Phichit and went into their room. Yuuri grabbed their phone; they had seven unread texts. Four were from Chris. Yuuri went back into the kitchen. Phichit told Yuuri to set a timer for three minutes, and Yuuri did as they were asked.

“Chris texted me,” Yuuri told Phichit as they stirred the rice. Phichit nodded. “Do you want me to read you the texts?”

“That’d be lovely, mon lapin.”

“‘So, your date with Victor is on Friday. I am so happy for you two. I am crying glitter and rose petals.’ And he sent a picture.”

“Describe it.”

“Chris has his face in a bouquet of roses, and he has a jar of glitter on his head.” Phichit laughed. “Look!” Phichit looked at the photo as he stirred; he laughed harder.

“That’s great. Send that to me.” Yuuri forwarded Chris’ photo to Phichit. “Thanks, lapin,” Phichit said. Phichit let go of the spoon, and Yuuri took over where Phichit left off. “When the alarm goes off, you can add three cups of water and stir.” Yuuri nodded and waited.

Yuuri and Phichit continued to cook together, and they ate together. Yuuri was surprised that they had an appetite despite the hollowness they were feeling. Phichit was glad to see that Yuuri ate something because they know that Yuuri hasn’t been eating much of anything. Phichit wasn’t going to point that out to them; instead, he was going to ponder that as he went on with his night.

#

**(Wednesday, 4 November 2015 – 11:44pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri,” Phichit said. Yuuri was hypnagogic and thinking about surprisingly nothing. “Are you serious about wanting to go to a party on Saturday?”

“If not to a party, then to a club or something,” Yuuri muttered. “It’s been a while since we’ve been to Northern Lights.”

“You’re right,” Phichit said. He turned off all the lights in their room except for the nightlights. He has those for the hamsters. And for Yuuri since they’re kind of scared of the dark. “Let’s go to Northern Lights on Saturday!” Yuuri nodded. “You can pick out your clothes for Saturday. I’ll let you do that,” Phichit said as he crawled into bed.

“Thank you for giving me permission to pick out my clothes,” Yuuri said with an eye-roll.

“No problem, poupée,” Phichit said as he yawned. Then he got out of bed. “Move over,” he told Yuuri. Yuuri moved over, and Phichit laid down next to them. “I’m so glad that you sleep with multiple pillows,” Phichit said as he yawned again. He placed his arm over Yuuri’s torso and put his nose in the crook of their neck. Yuuri stroked Phichit’s head as they both drifted off to sleep.

#


	24. And We Will Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri discuss their excitement about their date; Yuuri laments how they can never tell anyone back home that they're going on a date with THE Victor Nikiforov.

#

**(Thursday, 5 November 2015 – 11:39am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was in the cafeteria, looking at the vending machines. They wanted to get something but didn’t know what. “I could get a bottle of water,” Yuuri muttered, “but I can also get Cheez-Its.” Cheez-Its were the most appealing thing the school had in the vending machines, and that says a lot because Yuuri hates Cheez-Its. Yuuri wanted to decide, and soon; their stomach was growling, and they wanted to eat for once. They couldn’t find anything they wanted and just decided to get a bottle of water. It wasn’t what they wanted, but it’s what they had to get.

Yuuri went outside and sat on one of the benches by the pre-med building and drank their water. They wanted to kick themselves for deciding to sit outside. It’s 29ºF out; the bench is metal. The cold of the metal was seeping into their bones through their woolen trench coat.

Yuuri was kind of hoping to see Victor today. They wanted to give him a note. They were reading a Charles Bukowski poem that they felt Victor would like. Emotional poetry was never Yuuri’s strong suit; instead, they were more into poetry that was about nature or concrete ideas. Victor, on the other hand, likes poetry about love and fondness and loss. Maybe Yuuri was finally becoming cultured regarding poetry because of Victor. One night, Victor had remarked that they were finally understanding art and appreciating it. Perhaps this relationship had its benefits for them both.

> Victor: Where are you?
> 
> : I’m by the pre-med building.
> 
> Victor: On my way!

Yuuri took their gloves out of their coat pocket and put them on. Then they went into their bookbag and took out Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Yuuri was trying to acquaint themselves with Russian literature. After all, the man they were going on a date with was Russian and was highly familiar with Russian literature. They wanted to be familiar with it, too.

Yuuri was a bit worried about the date, but not because they were going to be on a date with a man. They were more concerned about what people back home would think about them if they went on this date. They couldn’t tell their family or sparse friends in Japan about the date. At best, they won’t understand. At worst, they’ll be ostracized.

But they could tell Phichit; which they did. They could tell Masabeeh and Tal’ at – who, despite their upbringings – were amazingly supportive. They could tell Camille and Khoudia; they would be overjoyed. They could tell their therapist and psychiatrist.

But they couldn’t tell Coach Cialdini. He would have an aneurysm if they found out that his skater was well acquainted with and going out on a date with _the_ Victor Nikiforov.

“Yuuri!” Victor walked off the path and made a beeline towards Yuuri. Yuuri hurried to put their book away. Victor was in a black pea coat and a beanie. The beanie covered all of his hair, but Yuuri was able to distinguish his walk from everyone else’s. His walk was somewhat like a runway model’s except there weren’t any exaggerated hip movements. That is to say, his walk was a graceful sway. “Hey!” Victor sat next to Yuuri on the bench and smiled. “How are you?”

“Tired,” Yuuri said. They were clutching the note in their pocket. “I don’t understand why this time. I went to bed at a reasonable time for once.”

“I’m glad you slept,” Victor said with a smile.

“How are you?” Yuuri asked.

“Excited for tomorrow.” Two students walked towards the bench, and Victor moved closer to Yuuri. “Are you excited?” Yuuri nodded. “I’m glad.” Victor was a smiling mess today. Yuuri decided to give Victor the note now rather than later.

“I have something for you,” Yuuri said. Victor’s face lit up. “Give me your hand.” Victor gave Yuuri their right hand, and Yuuri timidly placed the note in Victor’s hand. “It’s a note.” Victor was grinning. “You have already given me so many notes; I wanted to give you one in return.” Victor started to open the note. “Are you going to read it now?” Victor nodded. 

“I only gave you thirteen notes,” Victor said. Yuuri made a face. Victor nodded and took a note out of his pocket and placed it in Yuuri’s hand. “That makes it fourteen.” Victor grinned. Yuuri put their new note in their pocket and looked at Victor as they read the Bukowski note. Victor reached for Yuuri’s hand and held it as he read.

“There is a place in the heart that will never be filled…” Yuuri said.

“And we will wait and wait in that space,” Victor finished. “I’ve never thought that you would like Bukowski,” Victor said. “What gave you the idea to give me a note?” Victor moved closer to give the two people next to them space. Yuuri placed their bookbag between their legs to provide Victor with more space. 

“You’ve given me fourteen already. I thought that I should give you one, too.” Victor smiled. “So, I thought of all the poets I liked and decided to give you a Bukowski one.” Victor wrapped his arm around Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri felt their face heat up.

“Wait until you see what I give you tomorrow,” Victor muttered. “You’re going to like it.” Yuuri’s face warmed more. “I can feel it.” Yuuri was silent, and they placed their head on Victor’s chest. “Are you okay?”

“My heart is threatening to come out of my mouth,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t think that’s biologically possible, love,” Victor said. “I’m going to take a picture, hold on.”

“Is this for Chris?” Victor nodded. “Should I do this?” Yuuri wrapped their arms around Victor’s waist and looked towards the camera and smiled.

“Perfect,” Victor said. He took the selfie and sent it to Chris. “I’ll let you know what he says.” Yuuri let go of Victor and sat up; however, Victor didn’t let go of Yuuri. Instead, he held Yuuri tighter and let his nose touch their ear. “I can resist anything except temptation.” Yuuri had written that quote in their sketchbook. What else was Victor going to say to them that they had written?

“Likewise,” Yuuri said. “We have a date tomorrow.”

“We do.”

“Try not to yield to temptation until tomorrow, then.”

“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it,” Victor muttered. “And that’s exactly what I plan to do tomorrow.” Victor grinned. Yuuri felt Victor’s phone buzz in his pocket. “Hold on.” Victor looked at his phone. “Chris just sent heart emojis and crying emojis.”

“Is that a good thing?” Yuuri asked.

“If being so speechless and overjoyed that you give up on using words is considered a good thing, yes,” Victor said. “He’s going to want to call me later.”

“I could imagine.”

“Do you have to get ready for practice? I’ll walk you home.” Yuuri zipped their bookbag and threw it over their shoulder. Victor grabbed their hand and walked Yuuri home.

#

**(Thursday, 5 November 2015 –** **7:15pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri wasn’t focused on their routine; instead, they were thinking about that dreamy Russian guy they like. Coach Cialdini was chastising Yuuri for flubbing their jumps and loops tonight. “What’s wrong with you tonight, Yuuri?”

“There’s a lot on my mind right now. Sorry.”

“Could you try and get your mind off of it?” Phichit skated up to Yuuri’s side and threw his arm around their shoulder. “Phichit, what are you doing?”

“Yuuri’s been having a rough time recently. I told them not to push themselves.” Yuuri looked at Phichit. “Let me talk to them for a bit.” Coach Cialdini allowed Phichit to talk to Yuuri and went to guide Masabeeh.

“Are you okay?” Phichit asked. Yuuri shrugged. “Yuuri, don’t do this. Not right now.” Yuuri looked at their skates. They don’t remember how exactly they got off the ice. Maybe Phichit helped them off. “What’s going on?” Khoudia skated off of the ice and sat by Yuuri and Phichit. “Hello, Khoudia,” Phichit said.

“Hello, mes lapins,” she said. “What is going on?”

“Something’s bothering Yuuri, and they don’t know what’s going on.” Khoudia leaned in to get a look at Yuuri’s eyes. “Khoudia, what are you doing? Yuuri’s not going to look you in the eye. They don’t do that.” Khoudia gave up and took a sip of her water.

“Does it involve that guy Yuuri likes?” Khoudia asked. She took another sip of water.

“Why would Yuuri flub their jumps over him?” Phichit asked Khoudia. “They’re going on a date tomorrow, and Yuuri has nothing to worry about.” Yuuri was looking at their fingertips. “Right, Yuuri?” Yuuri shrugged.

“Mon chou, if there’s anything you have to say, say it now,” Khoudia cajoled. “We’re here for you.”

“I’m kind of nervous about the date,” Yuuri muttered. “I know that I don’t have anything to worry about, but I’m still nervous.” Khoudia moved to hug Yuuri but stopped herself. “You can give me a hug, Khoudia,” Yuuri said. They held out their arms for Khoudia. Khoudia got up and hugged Yuuri. “That’s really it.” Phichit nodded. “If there’s anything else, I’ll tell Phichit, and he’ll fill you in.”

“Good. I’ll get back to working on my routine before Ciao Ciao spazzes,” Khoudia said as she stretched. She kissed Yuuri’s and Phichit’s forehead and gracefully skated back onto the ice.

“Will you be alright for now?” Phichit asked.

“I should be alright until we get home.”

“Good,” Phichit said. “Now, let’s get you back on the ice.”

#

**(Thursday, 5 November 2015 – 9:49pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Now, what’s going on?” Phichit asked. Yuuri sat on the sofa with their small thing of coconut rice and aloe water. They were almost finished with their rice. “There’s more going on that you haven’t told Khoudia and me.” Yuuri nodded.

“Earlier, I was thinking about how I can’t tell anyone back home about my date with Victor,” Yuuri said. “Even if it weren’t with Victor – if it were a regular guy – I wouldn’t be able to tell them. They just won’t get it.” Phichit nodded. 

“Then, don’t tell them.”

“Then I realized that I’d have to basically sneak around and hide the status of my relationship with Victor. I don’t want that.” Phichit nodded. “And Victor and I had an interaction today that confuses me.”

“What happened?”

“We were talking using Oscar Wilde quotes, but I don’t think we were talking about Oscar Wilde quotes.” Phichit was silent. “He said, ‘I can resist anything except temptation’ and ‘The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.’”

“I don’t understand these references,” Phichit said. He yawned. “What were you two doing when he said those things?”

“Let me get the picture.”

> : Can you send me that picture you took today?
> 
> Victor: Sure!
> 
> Victor: [has sent an attachment]

“Here.” Yuuri showed the picture to Phichit and finished their rice. Phichit was silent. “He sent that picture to Christophe,” Yuuri said after they swallowed their last spoon.

“That… Yuuri, Victor likes you,” Phichit said. “You can’t deny it at this point.” He wiped his eyes and took Yuuri’s phone.

“That’s all well and good, I suppose, but I’m not sure what that means for tomorrow,” Yuuri said. “We talked about yielding to temptation and being weak to the flesh, but I’m not sure if I should do anything special for tomorrow.” Phichit yawned. “Sorry if I’m boring you.”

“You’re not boring me. I’m just trying to figure out what exactly I should say.” Yuuri nodded. They waited for Phichit to respond. “I’m sending myself this photo, though,” Phichit said. Then his phone buzzed. “There we go.” Phichit didn’t give Yuuri their phone back. Instead, he went through their chat log with Victor and sent himself all of the photos.

“What are you doing?”

“Indulging myself,” Phichit said. “I want all of these pictures.”

“ _Fudanshi_ ,” Yuuri called Phichit. Phichit shrugged. “You don’t even care anymore, do you?”

“Not in the slightest. If I’m a _fudanshi_ , I’m a _fudanshi_.” Phichit gave Yuuri their phone back. “If anything happens on your date tomorrow, I want you to be safe,” Phichit said. “And let me know if he tries anything funny that you don’t like.”

“What are you going to do? You’re like ten.”

“I am twelve, Yuuri. Fix your facts.” Yuuri chuckled. “And I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’ll think of something if I have to.” Phichit smiled. “You should go to bed. You don’t want puffy eyes when you go out tomorrow.” Phichit was insistent on Yuuri going to bed. They had already showered and eaten.

“I wanted to watch Sense8 with you, though,” Yuuri said.

“You are such a liar.” Yuuri shrugged and placed their container in the sink and the aloe water in the fridge. “Plus, I wasn’t going to watch Sense8 tonight. I was going to go to bed.” Phichit snapped his fingers. “Now come on. Let’s get some shut-eye.” Yuuri followed Phichit into their room and went to bed.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite chapters is coming up and I hope y'all are excited.


	25. The Passion of Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri go on their date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited about this chapter; I hope you are able to be excited with me.

#

**(Friday, 6 November 2015 – 12:22pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Eduvigis was dancing flamenco with Yuuri after they got dressed. “Not in a rush to leave today?” Eduvigis asked as Yuuri clapped.

“Not today, no,” Yuuri said as Eduvigis spun.

“Oh? Did something happen with Victor?” Yuuri made steps towards Eduvigis.

“We’re going on a date tonight,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis stopped dancing and stopped the music. “What?”

“When did this happen?” Eduvigis asked as she sat on the piano.

“He asked me out last week, remember?” Yuuri said. “He said he wanted to go before he went to Canada for an event, but time wasn’t having that.” Yuuri sat on the piano next to Eduvigis.

“Do you know what you have to do?”

“My sister gave me the talk before,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri, she played ‘Let’s Talk About Sex’ and walked out of the room,” Eduvigis said. Yuuri chuckled. “Go and buy condoms and lube. The Duane Reade by the hospital has them. Ask for Janelle. She doesn’t give you a stink eye when she rings you up.” Yuuri suddenly had many questions for Eduvigis. Mainly, who is knocking her ankles loose, and how does she know that “Janelle” won’t give someone the side-eye for buying condoms and lube? Eduvigis isn’t married – not to Yuuri’s knowledge, at least.

“What if he doesn’t want to use condoms?” Yuuri asked.

"Well, you'll have to persuade him to use them," Eduvigis said. "And if he won't be swayed, don't sleep with him. Having safe sex with new partners is important. You can have that talk with them at a later date and after STD tests.”

“Yes, Mama,” Yuuri said. Eduvigis smiled.

“I won’t keep you long,” Eduvigis said.

“Don’t you want to keep dancing?”

“One more dance, and then you must go,” Eduvigis said after a silence. She jumped off of the piano and held out her hand towards Yuuri. Yuuri smiled.

#

**(Friday, 6 November 2015 – 1:15pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri stood in the Duane Reade by the hospital. They couldn't believe that they were taking Eduvigis' advice. They were going to put the moves on Victor tonight and maybe dig in his guts if things go right. They looked at the selection of condoms they had. They had Trojans, Magnums, Lifestyles, and Durex.

“Do you need help?” A woman in a Duane Reade shirt asked. Yuuri looked at her nametag; it was Janelle.

“Yeah, I’m looking for condoms that work.”

“Well, what are you looking for? Ribbed? Pre-lubricated?” Yuuri blushed. They hadn’t had to buy condoms in a _long_ time.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. “What would you recommend?” Yuuri was really out of their depth here. They might as well take recommendations here.

“Well, Magnum’s ecstasy condoms are great for when you want the feeling of not using condoms,” Janelle said.

“I’m using these on a guy,” Yuuri said.

"Perfect. These would be great for you," Janelle said. "You might need more lube, though. As you know, the rectum is not self-lubricating, and you want to make sure that there isn't any rectal tearing for next time.” Yuuri blushed. “Next time?” They asked themselves. Did they want a "next time"? Janelle grabbed Yuuri’s arm and led them to the lubricants.

“What would you recommend?” Janelle reached for a bottle of Boy Butter. “This?” Janelle nodded.

"It's a water-based lubricant, and you won't have to worry about ruining the bed sheets or destroying the condoms." Janelle put it in Yuuri’s hands. “Do you need me to ring you up?”

“Yes, please,” Yuuri said. Janelle led Yuuri to the register. Yuuri picked up a Snickers bar to make things less awkward. Janelle warmly smiled at Yuuri as they paid for the condoms, lube, and Snickers.

“Have a fun time!” Janelle warmly said as she bagged the items. Yuuri put the bag in their dance bag and walked home. They were glad that they didn’t have to run into that group of high schoolers today.

#

**(Friday, 6 November 2015 –** **5:39pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

The Cup of China begins tonight. Yuuri wanted to stay and watch it with Phichit, but they had a date. Phichit, keeping true to his word, picked out Yuuri’s clothes and insisted that they had to dress to (figuratively) kill tonight. Yuuri went into the kitchen and got the box of _wagashi_ they had made for tonight. After buying lube and condoms, making desserts for tonight, and ironing their clothes, Yuuri was getting cold feet.

“Phichit, I feel ridiculous,” Yuuri said as they went into the living room and put the box of _wagashi_ on the coffee table.

“But you don’t look ridiculous,” Phichit said. “You look very lovely. And if Khoudia was here, I’m sure she would say that you look very lovely, too.” Right now, Yuuri would rather be going on a date with Khoudia. There’s a taste in Yuuri’s mouth. It tastes like nickels and bile and Satan’s ejaculate. At least they wouldn’t have that taste in their mouth with Khoudia.

“What if Victor is just wearing regular clothes, and I overdressed for nothing?” Yuuri asked.

"Well, then he can't say that you don't look good." Phichit was beaming. He was happy about the outfit choice he made for Yuuri. He put Yuuri in a pair of charcoal grey dress pants and a plum-colored dress shirt. Yuuri tried various elaborate physical stims in their clothes to try and make himself comfortable in their dress clothes. “Ma poupée, are you feeling anxious?”

“Very much. I wish I had never said yes.”

“Come on now, don’t say that. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Phichit said as he yawned. “If I had the opportunity to go on a date with Jay Park and I said ‘I wish I didn’t have this opportunity,’ you would take custody of the hamsters until I get my head on straight.” Phichit’s ultimate male bias is Jay Park. “ _You_ are going to go on your date with Victor, and _I_ am going to sit here and wish that I had a date with Jay Park.” Yuuri looked at Phichit. “Now, sit down before you get your clothes wrinkled from your fidgeting.” Yuuri yielded to Phichit and sat down.

“I kind of wish we’d go to a restaurant. I want to try this Cajun place,” Yuuri said as they put their head on Phichit’s shoulder. “One of my old dorm mates got this Doberge cake from there, and it was great." Phichit nodded. Yuuri didn’t often bring up their dorm days, but – when they did – they had stories. A lot of stories. "I've heard that Cajun food is delicious." Phichit rested his head on Yuuri’s head.

“Victor said he’s coming to get you, right?” Phichit asked.

"He said he'd be here by 6pm." Yuuri threw their arm around Phichit's shoulder, and Phichit cuddled up to him. 

“Mon lapin,” Yuuri murmured.

“Ma poupée,” Phichit said as he started to doze off in Yuuri's embrace. It was 5:45pm, and Victor still hadn't come to collect Yuuri. Victor rang their doorbell, and Phichit shot up. He was early.

“Phichit, calm down,” Yuuri said. Phichit answered the door. He came up to Victor’s sternum. Yuuri grabbed their bag and the box of _wagashi_ and rose to their feet.

“Hello!” Phichit squeaked.

“Are you Yuuri’s roommate?” Victor asked. Phichit nodded. “You’re even shorter than I expected.” Yuuri stood behind Phichit and lovingly put their hand on his shoulder. “Hello, Yuuri,” Victor said with a smile. Victor was in black dress pants and a stone blue shirt. Yuuri was glad that they weren’t the only one dressed up.

“Hello, Victor,” Yuuri said.

“Your roommate is adorable,” Victor remarked.

“Yeah, I know.” Yuuri stroked Phichit’s shoulder gently. “Je l’aime,” Yuuri stuttered. They looked away from Victor. Phichit grinned. “We should get going.”

“Right, right!” Phichit said. He stepped from in between the two and pushed Yuuri closer to Victor. They were chest to chest now. “I’ll let you two get going. Behave yourselves!” Phichit hugged Yuuri from behind and closed the door. Yuuri sheepishly grinned.

“That was my roommate,” Yuuri said. “He’s like that.” They chuckled. “We’re going to the aquarium first, right?” Victor nodded and held out his hand for Yuuri. Yuuri grabbed it, and they walked down the stairs. Victor squeezed Yuuri’s hand and grinned.

“I see you have your bag,” Victor said they walked down the street. “Is your sketchbook in there?” Yuuri nodded. "This is unrelated, but did I do something that made you stop responding to me?" Yuuri looked over at Victor. “You just intermittently stopped responding to my messages for a few weeks.” They stopped at a light.

“You didn’t do anything,” Yuuri said. Yuuri and Victor got stares from a passing family. "But you didn't do anything to me. I was just… I don't know. I've just been out of it." "Out of it" was an understatement, but that's all they can say without letting them know fully. 

“Just had to make sure,” Victor said. “What’s in the box?”

“I made desserts.” Victor grinned. “I think you’re going to like them.”

“I’m sure I’m going to.”

#

**(Friday, 6 November 2015 – 7:15pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

The aquarium was amazing. Yuuri was able to sketch a betta fish and a Pacific sea nettle before the aquarium closed. It was so beautiful, and Yuuri felt like they wanted to color the fish and the sea nettle in. They thought that watercolors would do them justice. Now they were on the bus, going to Victor's place for dinner. Victor was holding the box with care as Yuuri fumbled around in their bag. They didn't want to risk Victor seeing the bottle of lube and the condoms, so they decided to keep those in their pockets.

“Did you have fun?” Victor asked. Yuuri nodded. “I liked the sea turtles.” Yuuri smiled. “Aside from the betta fish, what did you enjoy?”

"I liked the Giant Pacific octopus," Yuuri gushed. “The tentacles on the one in the aquarium were amazing.” They grinned. “A true work of art. I can see why Hokusai drew them with the _ama_.”

“What’s an _ama_?”

“An _ama_ is a deep-sea diver," Yuuri explained. “Have I showed you The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife?” Victor shook his head. “You need to see The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.” Yuuri had searched for the photo and showed it to Victor. “That’s a woodblock portrait made by Hokusai.” Victor nodded. “So? What do you think?”

“Is that what you were drawing?” Yuuri looked at Victor. "In September. I tried to look at what you were drawing, and you told me not to do that." Yuuri nodded. “Fascinating. So are drawings like that – the ones you do – are they normal for you?”

"As I've said, I draw what my heart wants."

“And what does your heart want right now?” Victor asked. He was looking down at Yuuri, waiting for him to respond. He never got that response. “Hm,” Victor said. Victor put his arm around Yuuri and moved closer.

“I’m thinking of the sea nettle. It was so beautiful,” Yuuri had muttered. Victor smiled reflexively.

“It was lovely.” Victor snapped his fingers. “Oh! You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” Yuuri shook his head. “Good,” Victor had said.

“I didn’t ask you, but how were the other skaters?” Yuuri asked. “I’m sure you have other friends aside from Christophe.”

“Well, I saw Georgi. He’s doing fine,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “He has a girlfriend. His theme was newfound love this year.” Yuuri smiled. “His costume is very flamboyant. I like the theatrical side of him.” Victor shrugged. “Who else did I see?” Victor asked himself. “Oh, I saw Jean-Jacques Leroy.” Yuuri nodded. “He’s still annoying.”

“Still?”

“Still.” Victor shrugged. “Our stop is next.” Victor got up and held his hand out towards Yuuri. Yuuri followed him to an exit and stood at his shoulder. “I hope you like film because I’m hoping that we can watch a few movies.”

“What movies did you have in mind?”

“Nosferatu and I Killed My Mother,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “I’ve also been meaning to watch a Studio Ghibli movie, but I don’t know which one.” Yuuri grinned. Victor looked at them grinning. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away are my top two,” Yuuri said.

“What’s Spirited Away about?”

"A girl and her parents visit the spirit world, and the parents get turned into pigs," Yuuri said. They got off the bus and started walking. Yuuri held out their hand, and Victor grabbed it. They just wanted the box. “I liked it.”

“Have you heard of Grave of the Fireflies? What’s that one about?” Yuuri fell silent.

“I would rather not discuss Grave of the Fireflies,” Yuuri said. "Just know that it's… it's unfortunate."

“I see,” Victor said. “So, I suppose we’ll be watching Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away.” Victor smiled. “I’m so excited.” They stopped at a light. “You’ve heard of Don Hertzfeldt, right?”

"He's the person who made the Rejected short, right?" Victor nodded. "I like that short."

"Do you want to watch It's Such a Beautiful Day?" Victor asked. "It's an hour long, and it's dreamlike." Yuuri waited for Victor to continue. “Or we can watch World of Tomorrow.”

“Going by the names alone, both of them sound interesting. How long is World of Tomorrow?”

"About fifteen minutes," Victor said. The light changed, and they walked. "But there's so much in those fifteen minutes. I think you’d like it.” Yuuri nodded. “‘It was here on the moon I fell in love with a rock,’” Victor said.

“Is that from a Hertzfeldt animation?”

“Yes,” Victor said. “You’ll see where I got it from when we start watching movies.”

“What did you make for dinner?” Yuuri asked. Victor told Yuuri what he has planned. They felt their stomach stir. It sounded like a lot of food for Yuuri, and they weren’t sure if they were going to be able to eat all of that. It seemed great, sure, but could Yuuri stomach that? Could they eat comfortably with someone new? The situation was anxiety-provoking, and Yuuri didn’t bring their Xanax.

#

**(Friday, 6 November 2015 – 9:27pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

From what Yuuri could see, Victor has a lovely apartment. Its primary colors were ivory, grey, and charcoal; the accent colors were shades of blue with lime green. Or was it chartreuse? Yuuri couldn't tell the difference between lime green and chartreuse. Their phone buzzed. Yuuri checked; it was Khoudia.

> Khoudia: How's your date going, mon beau?

Yuuri wanted to respond, but they also wanted to give Victor their undivided attention. They made a mental note to reply to her texts when they had the chance. “What are you looking at?”

“A friend just texted me.” Victor nodded.

“Aren't you going to respond?” Yuuri took out their phone and looked at Khoudia’s text.

> : It's going well. We're going to have dinner soon.
> 
> Khoudia: Ah!! I'm glad your date is going well!!

“I responded,” Yuuri said. Victor was taking off his coat while Yuuri took off their shoes.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking off my shoes,” Yuuri said. It sounded like they were unsure of their actions – which they weren’t. They were very sure of this concrete action of theirs. Victor nodded. “Do Russians not take off their shoes when they enter a house?”

“We do, but you haven't taken off your coat yet,” Victor said. “But don't let me stop you. You were already halfway done.” Yuuri continued taking off their shoes. Phichit did an outstanding job at tying their shoes tonight. Yuuri got up and took off their coat. They hung up their bag with their coat. Victor started to take off his shoes, too. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Good,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled. Yuuri stood in their spot and waited for Victor to finish taking off his shoes. They have no clue what they should be doing right now. Right now, they wished they had discussed what they should do in situations like these with Phichit before they left. Then Yuuri noticed that Victor has a fuzzy pair of grey and white slippers by the door. Victor went into this small closet by the door and took out a pair of slippers for Yuuri to put on.

“You look like you're in thought.” Yuuri shrugged. “Did your roommate pick out your clothes this time?”

“He did. He insisted on it,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled. “I couldn't stop him.” Victor set the box of _wagashi_ on the coffee table and went into the kitchen. Yuuri remained standing by the door. After a few minutes, Victor poked his head from out of the kitchen.

“Yuuri, you can have a seat,” Victor told him.

“Do you need help in there?”

“I'm fine. Just sit down.” Yuuri took a seat on the sofa and looked at their hands. They hyper-fixated on their hands. So much so that they didn't hear Victor come into the living room. Victor didn’t say anything; instead, he just stood over Yuuri, watching them watch their hands.

“Why are you watching me?”

“I like looking at you. It’s enlightening.”

“I don’t see what you can learn from me just by observing me, but okay,” Yuuri muttered. “How’s the food coming along?”

“A few more minutes, and it should be done.” Yuuri nodded. Victor sat next to Yuuri with a smile plastered across his face. He took deep breaths, and Yuuri just looked at him as he did it. “Do you want to say something?” Yuuri shook their head. “You’re really quiet.” Yuuri nodded. “Oh! Who was that friend that you texted?”

“Khadijah,” Yuuri said, saying the Arabic form of Khoudia’s name. Khoudia would default to “Khadijah” when meeting new people or when she didn’t feel like repeating her name several times. Yuuri only called her “Khadijah” when they needed her attention, wanted to bother her, or, in this case, wanted to make talking about her easier. Victor nodded. “She was just asking how my date was going.”

“Does she know that you’re with me?”

“With you or with _you_?” Yuuri said. “Because if you mean with you, then yes. But if you mean with _you_ , no.” Victor nodded.

“What’s the difference?”

“She knows I’m out with a person, but she doesn’t know that that person is you.” Victor nodded.

“Is Khadijah nice? Do you like her?” Yuuri smiled at the way Victor said “Khadijah.” It sounds different coming from him. 

“Khadijah is an absolute joy,” Yuuri said. They didn’t know what else they could say about Khoudia that would convey how much she mesmerized them. Perhaps Khoudia was just someone that needed to be experienced rather than described, explained. That's the only thing Yuuri could think of that could explain why they couldn't verbalize the way Khoudia is. “Yes, an absolute joy.”

“Were you going to say something else?”

“I was trying to find words I could use to describe Khadijah, but I can't.” Yuuri looked at their slightly trembling hands. “So I suppose that I'll stick with ‘absolute joy.’”

“I see… And she's okay with you being here?” Yuuri wasn't precisely sure what Victor was implying here. Why would Khoudia have a problem with Yuuri being here? She knows they're on a date; she’s happy that they’re on a date.

“Well, I'm here, aren't I?” Yuuri said.

“But she –”

“– is fine with me being here, knows I am here, and is happy for me,” Yuuri said. The mood of the room went south, just like Yuuri’s mood. They were confused – more so – and didn't have a grasp on what was going on. It's one of those conversations where you feel like there's an underlying meaning, and you're talking about something innocuous in public. Except that there is no public and that, usually, everyone has an idea of what is being discussed. 

The mood didn’t dissipate after Victor dropped the conversation. It was pervasive. It permeated and tainted the food they ate, the movies they watched, and the other interactions they’ve had. Right now, Yuuri would like nothing more than to have a lovely, intimate sob in their bathroom in the apartment they shared with their best friend and precious cinnamon roll.

#

**(Friday, 6 November 2015 – 11:33pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Victor and Yuuri were on the sofa watching Nosferatu. They were at that famous part of the movie where Count Orlok was walking up the stairs. Victor was holding Yuuri in his arms and playing with the top button of Yuuri’s shirt. “Oh, that reminds me,” Victor said. He reached over towards the end table by the sofa and stuck a note in Yuuri’s shirt pocket. “Read that when you have the chance.”

“I will,” Yuuri said. Victor resumed playing with Yuuri’s shirt buttons. “Why are you playing with my shirt?”

“I want you,” Victor blurted out. He covered up his mouth. “I’m sorry. I–I… I want you.”

“Want me where?”

“In my bed,” Victor said.

“Okay, so let’s go to bed then,” Yuuri said. They got up and started to unbutton their shirt.

“You know what I mean, right?” Victor asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

“Aren’t you going to kiss me first?” Victor asked.

“Oh, you want me to kiss you?” Yuuri asked. Victor nodded. Yuuri sat back down and kissed Victor. Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri and kissed them back. Then it hit Yuuri. Victor wants them in his bed.

They could live with that.

#

**(Saturday, 7 November 2015 – 1:54am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

The room was dark and quiet. Earlier the only sounds that could be heard were the sound of the bed and Victor’s moans. They laid next to each other in the silence. Victor tentatively stroked Yuuri’s arm with his fingertips. “Yuuri.”

“Yes?”

“Look at me,” Victor said.

“Why?”

“I just want you to look at me,” Victor said. He gently stroked Yuuri’s face.

“I should go home,” Yuuri absently said.

“Stay the night,” Victor urged. “It’s kind of late, don’t you think?” Yuuri shrugged. “At least stay with me until the morning. We can have breakfast together.”

“I don’t eat breakfast,” Yuuri said.

“At all?”

“At all,” Yuuri said.

“Then we can have tea or coffee,” Victor suggested. “I know you don't drink coffee, but I want you to stay with me. I'll show you how to use a moka pot. I’ll teach you how to use a samovar.” Victor gently planted a kiss on Yuuri’s lips. “Just… Stay. Please.” Yuuri gently kissed Victor. Victor kissed Yuuri back. “So you’ll stay?”

“I haven’t left yet,” Yuuri simply said.

“That isn’t very comforting,” Victor said. “Say you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay,” Yuuri murmured. Victor smiled wistfully and kissed Yuuri again.

“I could kiss you forever,” Victor said.

“And never get tired of it?” Yuuri asked. Victor nodded. Yuuri smiled and kissed Victor. “We should go to sleep. For tomorrow.” Yuuri snuggled up to Victor. Then they were met with the need to pee. Victor already had his arm wrapped around Yuuri. “Victor?”

“Yes?”

“I have to use the bathroom,” Yuuri said.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” he said. Yuuri got out of Victor's warm and soft bed and his warm embrace and grabbed a pair of boxers from off the floor. They could be theirs or Victor's, but it didn't matter. They pulled them on and went into Victor's bathroom to relieve themselves. After they were done and they washed their hands, they went into the living room. The living room looked lovely in the dark. It was spacious, and Yuuri could easily do ballet there. So Yuuri started to do their stims until they felt better. As they stimmed, they thought about how quickly today went from being an anxious mess to not being as bad to being a disaster to being… satisfying. They got what they wanted – and they wanted this – but what does that mean for tomorrow? “Yuuri!”

“Yeah?”

“Come to bed. I miss you,” Victor whined. Yuuri smiled and decided to go back to bed. Victor's warm embrace and kisses greeted them. It felt nice being next to Victor in bed. They could get used to this.

#

**(Saturday, 7 November 2015 – 6:44am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri,” Victor said as he nudged them.

“I’m trying to sleep,” Yuuri mumbled.

“I can see that,” Victor said. “But it’s morning.”

“So?”

“So get out of bed and have tea with me,” Victor said. Yuuri looked up at him. He was smiling brightly and already dressed in some sweats and an olive-green V-neck. Yuuri sleepily got out of bed and looked around. “Do you need something to wear?”

“I can just put on my clothes from yesterday,” Yuuri said.

“Be comfortable with me,” Victor said. He got up and went to his drawer. He pulled out a pair of pants and a t-shirt for Yuuri. Yuuri slowly put it on and followed Victor to the kitchen. Victor said that he was going to teach Yuuri how to use a moka pot. So learn how to use a moka pot they shall.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so much tea about this chapter, but the world ain't ready for it.


	26. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Filler] Yuuri, Khoudia, and Phichit watch the first night of the Cup of China and tease Yuuri about Victor being their boyfriend.

#

**(Saturday, 7 November 2015 – 10:20am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was finally back in familiar territory. Phichit was sleeping on the sofa. After Yuuri took off their shoes and coat, they gently prodded Phichit awake.

“Did you sleep here all night?” Yuuri asked him. Phichit nodded.

“What were you doing that kept you out all night?” Phichit asked.

“Victor and I watched some movies,” Yuuri said. Phichit was still half-asleep. “We watched Spirited Away and Nosferatu.” Yuuri neglected to mention that they didn’t get through Nosferatu because of the events of last night. Phichit yawned. “I’m going to brush my teeth and the taste of Satan’s ejaculate out of my mouth. I’ll talk to you when you finish waking up.” Phichit nodded again and laid back down. Yuuri walked into the bathroom and started to brush their teeth.

“Wait!” Phichit staggered towards the bathroom. “What were you doing with Victor last night?” Phichit leaned on the door frame; Yuuri held up their index finger as they brushed their teeth. Yuuri finished and rinsed.

“As you were saying,” Yuuri said.

“What did you say you were doing last night?”

“Victor and I watched movies together,” Yuuri said. They wiped their face on their face towel. “Should I go back and repeat everything I said when you were asleep?” Phichit nodded. So Yuuri reiterated what they did with Victor to Phichit – neglecting to mention the multiple times they had sex.

“And all you two did… was go to the aquarium, eat dinner, and watch movies,” Phichit said incredulously. Yuuri nodded, picked up Phichit, and placed him on his bed. “Ah! Don’t coddle me!” Yuuri sat on Phichit’s bedside.

“You were sleeping on the sofa last night. I know you’re small, but that’s uncomfortable for anyone,” Yuuri said. Phichit whined. “Also, I have pictures.” Yuuri gave his phone to Phichit, and Phichit scrolled through Yuuri’s photos. Phichit was frantically patting Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Boyfriends!”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Yuuri retorted despite thinking about what that made them and Victor. They didn’t know if they would be boyfriends or if it was just a one-night thing. Yuuri _hoped_ that this wasn't a one-night stand; they wanted more nights with Victor. And days. They knew that they wanted days with him, too. They liked this day with Victor. Victor read Pushkin to them, and Yuuri explained Dadaism and post-modern art. _This_ is how it felt to be in a Parisian salon. “Plus, _we_ take pictures like that.” Phichit shrugged. Yuuri’s phone buzzed. It’s Victor. Victor got a hold of Yuuri’s phone last night and changed his buzzes. “Victor did that last night.”

> Victor: Inside yet?
> 
> : Got in a few minutes ago.
> 
> Victor: I’m glad ((sparkling heart emojis))
> 
> Victor: I still wish that I could’ve walked you home. I would have loved to see your roommate again.

Yuuri suggested that they get off the topic of Victor and, instead, focus on preparing their home for Khoudia. She wanted to watch the Cup of China with them – partially because she wanted to get away from her family for a bit and partly because she genuinely wanted to watch the Cup of China events. 

#

**(Saturday, 7 November 2015 – 6:59pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“To think that you’ll be the Trophée Éric Bompard in a few weeks!” Khoudia said. She put her bookbag in the corner; they all agreed on a sleepover. How Khoudia managed to get her parents to agree to that was unusual. Khoudia was at Skate America a few weeks ago; she’s going to be at the Rostelecom Cup with Yuuri. “Yuuri, mon chouchou, you’re going to love it.” She was beaming. Phichit sat in between Khoudia and Yuuri.

“Yuuri, are you going to be able to sit through the entire thing tonight?” Phichit asked. Yuuri nodded. “Alright, mon poupée,” Phichit said as he squeezed Yuuri. Khoudia snapped a flick of the two.

“That’s going on my Instagram!” Khoudia giggled. “You two are so cute together!”

“What about Yuuri’s boyfriend?” Phichit said.

Khoudia gasped and yelled, “He’s your boyfriend now?!” Khoudia started babbling in French, Wolof, Serer, and Soninke, trying to get out all the questions she has about Yuuri’s “boyfriend” out into the air and onto the table.

“I do _not_. He is _not_ my boyfriend.” Yuuri managed to get out. 

“Okay, but you spent the whole night with him,” Phichit said. Khoudia put her hand over her mouth. “And he’s said that he likes and misses you. Multiple times.”

“And Khoudia’s spending the night with us tonight and she calls us ‘ma foi’ and ‘ma raison d’être,’” Yuuri pointed out. Phichit looked at Yuuri; Yuuri returned the look. “Let’s look at figure skaters.”

“You’re so embarrassed,” Khoudia gushed. “It’s so cute. You have to show me his picture later.” Khoudia giggled. “But yes, let us look at figure skaters being extra. This is what we have come together to do tonight.”

> Victor: Are you watching the Cup of China?
> 
> : Yeah. I’m with my roommate and our friend.
> 
> Victor: Aah! Tell your roommate I say “hello!”
> 
> Victor: And the same to your friend, too, I guess idk idk

So Khoudia, Phichit, and Yuuri watched the skaters skate. So far, only two people have managed to hurt themselves this season: one broken leg and one sprained ankle. “It’s still early on,” Khoudia said, “there can be more injuries.” And Yuuri was able to sit through all the events tonight.

#


	27. And a Song of Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Phichit pick out their clothes for a friend's birthday dinner.

#

**(Sunday, 8 November 2015 – 10:40am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri, Khoudia, and Phichit decided to go out for breakfast. They settled on a tea house-café in downtown Detroit. Yuuri was bringing their bag, and Khoudia had asked if she can keep her meter and medicine in there. Yuuri made no objections.

“You still haven’t shown me the picture of the guy you’re dating,” she said as she opened the door to the tea house.

“We’re not dating. He’s just a friend.”

“Okay, the guy you’re talking to, then,” she said. Phichit directed them to the back of the tea house, and they sat at a table. Someone came out to give them menus.

“We don’t even talk.”

“Yes, you do,” Phichit said. “A few days ago, you told me about your Oscar Wilde conversation.”

“I doubt that we were talking about Oscar Wilde that day,” Yuuri said. “Khoudia, back me up here.” Khoudia didn’t hear what Yuuri said. She was looking at her menu.

“Khoudia, ignore them,” Phichit said.

“Ignore what?” She said as she turned the page. “I’m trying to figure out what tea I want. So far, I’m torn between pearl jasmine and apple cinnamon. What do y’all think?”

“I’d pick jasmine,” Yuuri said.

“Yeah, same,” Phichit said. “I’m getting sencha. What about you?”

“Either matcha or hot cinnamon spice,” Yuuri said as they turned the page of their menu. “I’m getting scones. Khoudia, get scones.”

“What if I don’t want scones?”

“Don’t care. Get scones.” Khoudia rolled her eyes.

“Are you going to make Phichit get scones?” Yuuri shook their head. Then they looked at Khoudia. They were smiling now. “Phichit, are you going to let them tell me to get scones?”

“Khoudia, just get the scones,” Phichit said. She made a face that made Yuuri laugh.

“Fine. I’ll get them. Now, about this boy,” she said.

“Nothing about him.” Yuuri closed his menu. “I’ve decided on matcha.” They put their hands in their lap.

“I kind of want macarons,” Phichit said. “Yeah, I’m getting macarons.” He was thinking out loud. “Yuuri, what kind should I get?”

“I suggest rose. They taste like roses.” Khoudia looked at Yuuri strange after they said that. Phichit wasn’t bothered in the slightest. 

“Ma raison, why do you know what roses taste like?” Khoudia asked.

“Why don’t you?” Yuuri retorted. A waitress came out and took their orders, and they made conversation as they waited for their tea. 

#

**(Sunday, 8 November 2015 – 6:50 pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Has your partner texted you today?” Khoudia asked. She was sitting on the extreme right end of the sofa. Yuuri was on the left. Phichit was in between them again.

“He’s not— never mind,” Yuuri said. “And I don’t know. I don’t check my phone when I’m with you two.”

“Check!” Khoudia was beaming. Yuuri grabbed their phone and checked it. No texts. They put their phone back down. “Anything new?”

> Victor: I miss yoouuu
> 
> : We saw each other hours ago
> 
> Victor: I know, but still! My bed is so lonely without you!

“Nothing,” they said as they put their phone down again. “It’s no big deal.” They shrugged and stretched their legs.

“What was his last message?” Phichit asked. He placed his head in Khoudia’s lap and his legs in Yuuri’s.

“‘I know, but still.’” Yuuri yawned. Khoudia was putting her hair into a puff.

“Reply to him,” Phichit said.

“There’s nothing for me to reply to.”

“Then start a new conversation,” Khoudia said as she was gathering her hair together. Khoudia has a lot of hair, and Yuuri never took the time to notice that. It’s grown a lot since 2012. 

“Why are we even friends? Why am I with you nerds?” Yuuri chuckled.

“Well, we’re friends because you called me cute and wanted to get away from your dorm mates,” Phichit said. “You and Khoudia are friends because you accidentally knocked her over on her first day at Wayne and offered to buy her a coffee.”

“By the way, what were you running from when we first met?” Khoudia asked.

“I was trying to avoid someone,” Yuuri said. They grabbed their phone. “I saw them, and I took off running.” Khoudia chuckled. “Are you still mad at me for knocking you over?” 

“Not anymore,” she said. She reached over and touched Yuuri’s bicep and laughed. “It’s a funny story when you think about it.” Khoudia chuckled. “And then, like days later, we encountered each other at the rink, and you proceeded to ignore me.”

“If you think they were ignoring you, they probably weren’t ignoring you intentionally,” Phichit said. “They just suck at talking to people, and it takes them a while to warm up to you.”

“Yuuri warmed up to you rather quickly, though,” Khoudia pointed out.

“Not true,” Phichit stated. “They didn’t say much to me for months after we became boyfriends – which is weird because we share a room. You would think that they would be a lot more open with me considering that we share a room.” Yuuri looked at Phichit; he was staring up at the ceiling. “I was floored the first time they spoke more than five words to me.”

“Ah, but they were very protective over you during practice.”

“Khoudia, I think we’re talking about two different people right now.”

“Let’s see. We’re talking about Yuuri Katsuki, the autistic art major who doesn’t talk much unless it’s about art, ballet, or their dog, right?” Phichit nodded. “We’re discussing the same person.” 

“Maybe I just don’t understand how you see ‘doesn’t talk much and protective’ while I see ‘ignores my entire existence’ in Yuuri’s actions.”

“Are you two going to keep talking about me like I’m not here?” Yuuri asked. “I may be autistic, but I can still hear and understand you two very well.”

“We know you’re here, ma raison. You didn’t say anything,” Khoudia said. “Would you care to shed light on what we’re discussing? Or should we continue?”

“I mean, you two can continue if you want.”

“Speaking of you and your poor conversational skills,” Phichit said, “if you want to maintain his interest, you should probably start acting like you want him.”

“What?” Yuuri was, metaphorically speaking, all ears. What wisdom could Phichit impart tonight?

“I know how you are. And if you want Victor to maintain his interest in you, act like you want him,” Phichit said.

“What does this have to do with my conversational skills?” Yuuri asked. They didn’t see the point. 

“You need to talk to him, first of all,” Khoudia said. “Second of all, ask about him. Guys love talking about themselves.” Yuuri and Phichit looked at Khoudia. “Okay, maybe you two don’t. Or maybe I’ve just met a lot of egocentric guys.” She shrugged. “Also, his name is Victor?” Yuuri nodded. “Just like Victor Nikiforov,” she said, giggling. Yuuri stayed silent. “Imagine if it was Victor Nikiforov you were going out with.” Yuuri looked away, and Phichit turned towards the television. 

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Phichit said and left the living room.

“That was sudden,” Khoudia said. Yuuri felt their face get warm. “Are you okay?” Khoudia moved closer to Yuuri to brush the hair out of their face. “Your forehead is hot. Kind of weird to be getting all hot under the collar over your celebrity crush.” 

“It’s just that… I kind of am talking to my celebrity crush,” Yuuri muttered. Khoudia stopped stroking Yuuri’s forehead and didn’t move. “Are you okay, Khoudia?”

“So, you’re really talking to him?” Yuuri showed Khoudia the selfie of them that they were supposed to draw. She fell silent. 

“That’s Victor Nikiforov in the flesh,” Yuuri muttered. “I see him a few times a week, and we go to the museum together.” 

“And you were with him on Friday?” Yuuri nodded. “Hm,” Khoudia said. She was speechless. She removed her hand from Yuuri’s forehead and was motionless next to them. Phichit came back from the bathroom and sat in front of Khoudia and Yuuri.

“Yuuri, why does it look like Khoudia just a glass of water thrown in her face?” Phichit stretched his arms.

“Neither of you told me that Yuuri was talking to Victor Nikiforov,” she muttered. “I was just joking earlier. I didn’t know this.” She took deep breaths. “Yuuri, you know that now you have to work harder to keep him.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Yuuri said.

“You will, in time,” she said. Yuuri shrugged. “Sate my curiosity and tell me this, how does he make you feel?”

“The words’ vulnerable’ and ‘bothered’ come to mind,” Yuuri said. “Shouldn’t we be watching figure skaters skate?”

“Why should we? No one we care about is there.”

“Shouldn’t we, you know, scope out the competition? We are competing in events,” Yuuri pointed out.

“We have the internet for that,” Khoudia said. “Now, why does Victor make you feel ‘bothered’?” She was kind of back to her usual self. She was still stunned, but she was back to herself.

“I don’t know why. I can’t even explain it to Luzia.”

“So, Luzia knows?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri nodded. “I feel like you two intentionally left me out of the loop now.”

“Khoudia, _ma petite sirène_ ,” Yuuri said as they threw their arm around her. “I would _never_ intentionally leave you out of something. You’re too precious to me that I would intentionally try to hurt you. Phichit only knows because he read my texts with him.” 

“Plus, you use people’s full names for their contact name.” Yuuri pointed at Phichit after he said that. “And I had Yuuri describe him to me.” Khoudia looked over at Phichit. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I was privy to this long before you.”

“My feelings are genuinely hurting right now,” Khoudia said. Yuuri hugged Khoudia. “I don’t know if a hug is going to make this okay.” Yuuri let go of Khoudia. “Don’t let me go, though. Keep your hands on me.” Yuuri spread their arms open and enveloped Khoudia in their embrace. “Thank you.”

“Now, let’s watch camp figure skating performances,” Yuuri suggested. And they did just that.

#

**(Monday, 9 November 2015 –** **4:20am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri,” Khoudia said as she gently shook them awake. “Yuuri!”

“Yeah?” Yuuri turned on their light and rubbed their eyes. Phichit was fast asleep in Yuuri’s arms. “What happened?”

“I’m getting ready now. You should get ready, too.” Yuuri nodded. They agreed to take Khoudia home so she can get ready for her classes. Yuuri buried their face in the crook of Phichit’s neck and tried to go back to sleep. Khoudia shook them again.

“What?”

“Start getting ready. You have to take me home,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded. “It’d be nice if you can get out of bed and take your shower.” Yuuri nodded. “I will drag you out of this bed, so help me God.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll get up,” Yuuri muttered. They let go of Phichit and dragged themselves out of bed. They gathered their underwear, t-shirt, and slippers and went to the bathroom to shower. They kept thinking of the phrases “the more I disappear” and “As surely as the blade’s course is run / Maybe my kingdom’s finally come.” They didn’t have a problem with either of these phrases, but they did wish that they could not bother them when they’re trying to take a shower.

#

**(Monday, 9 November 2015 –** **5:40 pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri’s event starts on Friday. They let their professors know that they’d be out until next week. They wrote down all the things they needed to do before they left in their journal. So far, they had to: see Luzia and Noêmia, pack their medicine, pack their clothes, equipment, and costumes, and figure out what they’re going to tell Victor. Phichit has been helping out when they can, but they don’t want to disturb them when they’re working. Their room was in an uproar, and Yuuri couldn’t control any of it. The packing soon started to trigger their anxiety. So much so that they started crying.

Phichit came into the room and sat across from Yuuri. “Do you need help with packing?” Phichit asked. Yuuri didn’t say anything between their sobs. “I’ll help you pack your clothes. I’ll leave you to your medicine.” Phichit silently took out underclothes for Yuuri, folded them, and lovingly put them into their suitcase. Once Yuuri stopped crying, they got up and started to sort their medicine. “Are you feeling better now?” Phichit stopped folding and looked at Yuuri. They were nodding. “You’re not going to talk very much for the rest of the night, are you?” Yuuri shrugged. “Hm.” Phichit resumed folding and packing. Once Phichit was done with Yuuri’s underclothes, he went on to their regular clothes – their shirts, pants, and things.

“You don’t need to help me,” Yuuri muttered. Phichit turned to face them and looked.

“You need me to help you,” Phichit said. “If me helping you means that your meltdowns will stop, I’ll help you.” Phichit folded the shirt in his hands. “I don’t mind helping you.”

“I don’t want you to baby me,” Yuuri said. They put the cap back on their Remeron and Zyprexa.

“I’m not babying you.” Yuuri looked up at Phichit from their seat. “How often must I say that I do this because you’re my friend, and I care for you?” Phichit placed the shirt in Yuuri’s suitcase and reached for another one. “I’m going to do this for you, ma poupée.” Phichit looked for pants. “How many pairs of pants do you want and what texture are you hoping for?”

“I’ll pick out my pants,” Yuuri mumbled. Phichit nodded and went to get socks for Yuuri.

“How many pairs of shoes are you going to bring with you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to wear your Docs?” Phichit asked. Yuuri nodded. “Okay, I’ll set aside your Docs.” Yuuri was silent. “Are you going to wear your sneakers?” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll set aside your sneakers, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to see Luzia and Noêmia tomorrow?” Yuuri nodded. “Are you going to wear your sneakers?”

“Docs.” Phichit nodded.

“Do you need me to pick out your clothes for tomorrow?” Phichit asked. Yuuri was silent. “I’ll pick out your clothes for tomorrow.” Phichit went into the closet and took out a hoodie. “This is your Cuckoo and Azaleas hoodie. Do you want to wear that?” Yuuri nodded. “Okay. I’ll set that aside.” Phichit took out a turtleneck. “It’s supposed to be cold tomorrow. Wear this.” He held it in front of Yuuri. They nodded. Phichit went back to Yuuri’s drawer and took out a pair of harem pants. They’re the apricot-colored pair with koi fish and almond blossoms on them. “These pants are thicker than your other ones. Wear these.” Yuuri nodded. Phichit took out a pair of thick socks for Yuuri. “Don’t forget to wear a hat and scarf tomorrow.” Yuuri nodded again. “Are your gloves in your coat pocket?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said.

“Good.” Phichit sat at the head of Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri looked at their medicines and their hands. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Yeah.” Phichit awaited Yuuri’s response. He wasn’t very pleased with it when he realized that they said: “Throw me out the window.” 

“I’m not doing that,” Phichit insisted. “What’s bothering you?” Yuuri shrugged. “You don’t randomly start crying, rocking, and hyperventilating for no reason,” Phichit said. Then he realized what he said. “Well, _you_ do. But that wasn’t a panic attack. That was a meltdown.” Phichit zipped up Yuuri’s suitcase and placed it in the corner. “And your meltdowns usually result from internal and/or external overstimulation. And you’ve been inside all day. So what’s bothering you?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. They got up to put their medicine in the zip-up pouch. “I guess I’m thinking of Victor right now. Why? I don’t know, but I do think that he’s going to be curious about why I’m not coming to class.” Yuuri sat on the floor again. “Which is a rather minute thing to have an entire meltdown over.”

“You’re right. It is small.” Yuuri laid on the floor and placed their right ankle on their left knee. “Tell him that you had to go out of town. Short and sweet.”

“You don’t understand, though,” Yuuri whined. “He asks questions. A lot of questions. What do I say when I’m questioned?”

“Personal business.” Yuuri nodded.

“And if he sees me competing?”

“It’s still personal business,” Phichit justified. “Also, even if you _could_ tell him everything, don’t you think it’s kind of late for that? The season has long since begun.” Yuuri looked at Phichit. What is Phichit trying to say here? Yuuri didn’t ask him to elaborate or anything. They’re still ruminating on what he said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“What you just said.”

“All I’m trying to say is that if he asks, you say ‘personal business.’ And if he asks why you were participating in an event, you still say ‘personal business.’” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Is my advice not helpful enough?”

“Honestly? No, but I take what I can get.” Phichit threw Yuuri’s pillow at them. It landed on their face. “Good. Now suffocate me.”

“Yuuri, no,” Phichit said.

“Phichit, yes.”

“How many times must I tell you that you can’t ask people to kill you when you’re in your feelings?” Yuuri shrugged. “Get off the floor now.”

“Okay.” Yuuri sat up. They gave their pillow back to Phichit, and Phichit placed it back at the head of the bed. “Are we still going out to dinner with the rink tomorrow?” Yuuri asked.

“I had forgotten that we all agreed to go out,” Phichit said. “I’ll pick our clothes out. You can wear what you wore for your date with Victor.” Phichit went back to the closet and found Yuuri’s date clothes. “What do you have in your shirt pocket?” Phichit took the object out of Yuuri’s shirt pocket and gave it to Yuuri. “Open it.” Yuuri opened it and quickly glanced over it. They were able to make out “Neruda” and “fire” in the poem.

“Victor must’ve snuck a note into my pocket.” Phichit made a face. “Yes, Phichit?” Yuuri asked.

“How did he get close enough to slip a note into your shirt pocket?” Phichit asked. He looked to be bothered by something.

“We, uh…” Yuuri felt their face heat up. Phichit got on the floor and sat across from Yuuri and looked them dead in the eyes. “I don’t know how to put this.” Phichit didn’t break eye contact and moved closer to Yuuri.

“And nothing happened, huh,” Phichit said.

“Nothing happened!” Yuuri exclaimed. Phichit was unfazed.

“Pinky swear and tell me that nothing happened.” Yuuri held up their pinky, and so did Phichit. They locked pinkies. “Good. If I find out that something more happened, I’m shaving your head,” Phichit said and got up. He went back to the closet. 

“Wait, what?”

“Nothing, lapinou,” Phichit looked through the closet for something to wear. “I’m stumped on what to wear. Text Camille and ask them what the dress code is like.”

“Sure.” Yuuri went to the group chat.

> : Hey Camille.
> 
> Camille: Yeah?
> 
> : Phichit wants to know if you prefer formal clothes for tomorrow night.
> 
> Masabeeh: Oh good, finally someone’s asking about the dress code.
> 
> Camille: Idc what you wear as long as you wear clothes.
> 
> : Thanks. See you tomorrow, kid.
> 
> Camille: Np

“What did Camille say?”

“Wear clothes,” Yuuri said. Phichit deadpanned. “They’re really stressing the ‘wear clothes’ bit.” Phichit nodded and went back to work. He chose a sangria colored shirt and black dress pants.

“What do you think about this?” Phichit asked. Yuuri nodded. “Are you nodding because you like it, or are you nodding because you want me to leave you alone?”

“I like it,” Yuuri said. They got up and picked up Crime and Punishment. They like it and want to continue reading it. Yuuri’s phone buzzed. Yuuri looked at their phone; it’s just Victor. Yuuri felt themself sweat.

Victor: I miss you so much right now.

“Aren’t you going to respond?” Phichit asked as he got his dress shoes out of the closet.

“It’s not important, really,” Yuuri insisted. “Plus, you should get back to doing your homework. I’ll iron our clothes later.” Yuuri tried to keep their focus on their book, but they felt like they were on opiates.

Victor: So, about doing that again. I’m up for it if you are.

“I know you’ll iron our clothes, but don’t you want to text Victor back?”

“Not really,” Yuuri muttered. Phichit shrugged and left their bedroom. Yuuri couldn’t focus on Crime and Punishment. So they went to their bag and took out the book Victor gave them. It turns out the surprise was Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair. Victor said that they’d like it and that he wants to know what Yuuri thinks of it when Yuuri starts to read it.

Yuuri looked at the book as they wrote in his journal and ate Boy Bawang cornicks. After they finished writing, they opened the book and read the first lines of the second poem. “My rough peasant’s body digs in you and makes the son leap from the depths of the earth,” Yuuri muttered. “But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you. Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk.” Yuuri kept reading. Then they closed the book and went back to writing in their journal. They’re writing about what they think of Victor’s arms and how it was to have them around them. “Maybe I should text him back,” Yuuri mused.

> Victor: wyd rn?

“Oh, something normal,” Yuuri thought, gladly.

> : I’m picking out my clothes for this dinner tomorrow.

Yuuri closed their journal again. They can’t bear to look at what garbage they just wrote. It’s going to be hell when they go to therapy tomorrow, and they have to tell Luzia and Eduvigis about their date. How are they supposed to say to them about this? Yuuri is pretty bad at talking about important subjects.

Then his phone started ringing. It’s Victor. “Hello?” Yuuri said.

“Hey _солнышко_ ,” Victor said. “How’s finding clothes going?”

“Pretty well. I already know what I’m going to wear.” Yuuri grabbed their sketchbook and opened it. They had a myriad of new phrases to write in there. The expressions occasionally serve as art prompts; other times, Yuuri likes the phrase so much that they want to remember it.

“I bet you’ll look great.” Yuuri could hear Victor’s smile through the phone. Then they were suddenly struck with the mood to draw. They felt like arms and chests would be the perfect thing to draw right now. That’s all they could think about right now.

“How are you?” Yuuri asked. They opened their sketchbook and started sketching.

“I’m fine,” Victor said. “What’s this dinner you’re going to for?”

“It’s a friend’s birthday tomorrow,” Yuuri explained. Victor made a curious sound. “They’ve been planning this for months, and they want us there.” 

“Us?”

“My roommate and I,” Yuuri elaborated. “Camille is really excited for tomorrow.” Yuuri reached for their eraser and decided to clean up some stray lines.

“Is that your friend’s name? Camille?”

“Well, they haven’t told us what they want to be called yet. So, until they tell us what they want to be called, Camille said that we could continue using Camille.”

Camille: I have an announcement for everyone tomorrow.

“And do you like Camille?” They’ve known Camille since they started going to Wayne, and Yuuri’s been a silent constant in their life. Why wouldn’t they like Camille? They haven’t done anything to them, and they’re always a lovely person.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Yuuri asked. “They’re my friend, and I care for them deeply.” Something rubbed against Victor’s phone. 

“I see,” Victor murmured. Yuuri nodded. “Well, I hope Camille’s birthday dinner goes well and that Camille’s birthday is excellent.” Yuuri smiled.

“I’ll be sure to tell Camille that,” Yuuri said.

> Tal’ at: Ooh. Any hints?
> 
> : I can’t wait for your announcement.
> 
> : Also, my friend wishes you an excellent birthday.
> 
> Camille: I’d tell you my news now, but I want it to be a surprise!!!
> 
> Camille: And tell them that I say “thank you”!!!
> 
> : I understand. Don’t worry about it.
> 
> Tal’ at: So no hints?
> 
> Camille: No hints.

“How old is Camille going to be?” Victor asked.

“21,” Yuuri said. “But enough about Camille. What are you doing right now?”

“I’m reading Zami: A New Spelling of My Name. It’s an autobiography by Audre Lorde.” Yuuri nodded. “Someone had suggested that I read it after I had to read an excerpt from an Audre Lorde essay,” Victor said. “I don’t know how they got the idea that I would like to read about the life of a Caribbean lesbian, but they knew, and they were right.” Yuuri chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the book.”

“Speaking of books, have you started reading the book I gave you?”

“I have.”

“And?”

“I had to stop after the first poem. It made me sweat,” Yuuri admitted. Victor muffled his laughs. “I don’t know if I will be able to continue reading if I’m going to keep sweating like that.” Victor laughed harder. “This is not amusing.”

“If just reading something mildly suggestive makes you sweat, you’re going to have a rough time with me,” Victor said. “How was that for your personal introduction to Neruda?”

“I like it,” Yuuri said. “It was nice.”

“Good. I’m glad you like it.” Victor was beaming through the phone. “How do you feel?” Victor asked.

“I feel warm,” Yuuri muttered. “What about you?”

“Warm,” Victor said. “How’s your roommate?”

“He’s fine.” Yuuri continued drawing. Then they scratched their chest. “How’s Christophe?” Yuuri asked.

“Chris is Chris, as usual,” Victor said. Yuuri stopped drawing and opened their journal again. They’re trying to just continue writing and stay away from what they had just written. “I had just gotten off the phone with him. He wanted to tell me about this disagreement he had with his partner about chocolate ice cream.”

“Over chocolate ice cream? Really?”

“Yeah. His partner thinks chocolate ice cream is gross, and that ruined Chris,” Victor said. “Let’s get this out of the way now: How do _you_ feel about chocolate ice cream?”

“I love chocolate,” Yuuri said. “Do you?”

“Well, I, unlike Chris’ partner, will eat chocolate ice cream,” Victor said. Yuuri’s phone buzzed. Phichit is texting them.

> Phichit: Okay, I finished my essay draft. Can you look over it?
> 
> : Sure. Share it with me.
> 
> Phichit: Nice ((heart with arrow emoji))

Phichit shared his essay with Yuuri, and Yuuri looked at it. They had to hang up now; Victor is only going to be a distraction if they keep talking to him when they’re trying to help Phichit. “Hey, Victor,” Yuuri said. “I have to do something very important right now, and I need to hang up.” 

“Okay,” Victor said.

“Just text me if you want me.”

“Then, I’ll be texting you forever.” Victor chuckled. “I’ll let you get to work. _Пока,_ _солнышко_.”

“Yeah, that.” Yuuri hung up and got to work on Phichit’s essay. The essay, as a whole, was fine, but there were a few areas that were too ambiguous that needed to be fixed or gotten rid of. Other than that, the essay was excellent, the wording was strong, and Phichit’s voice was clear. 

But Yuuri couldn’t get their mind off Victor.

#


	28. And So They Frolic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Phichit go to a birthday fête.

#

**(Tuesday, 10 November 2015 – 6:12pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri! I need you to tie my tie!” Phichit yelled from the bedroom. Yuuri got up and went into the room. Yuuri was still getting ready; they hadn’t even finished buttoning their shirt. Phichit was almost ready. The only thing he needed was his bow tie to tie it all together. “Thank you, ma poupée,” he said as Yuuri finished tying his tie. “Now, go put on your pants.” Yuuri went back into the living room to continue dressing.

Compared to how quickly they usually dress, they were dressing slowly. Yuuri was thinking about their sessions with Luzia and Noêmia. Their session with Noêmia was fine, as usual. She was as soft-spoken and as loving as she usually was. She asked how their medicines made them feel and decided to increase their Remeron dosage.

But Luzia. “Luzia,” Yuuri thought. Their session with her was uncomfortable. They were trying to explain to her why they couldn’t verbalize the feelings of depression, their brief but welcomed emotional reprieve from their misery, their perceptions of anomie, and Victor – what they were going to tell him and their feelings for him. Luzia would not allow them to avoid their feelings for Victor today. Today’s step was admitting that they do have feelings of some sort for Victor. Tomorrow? The day after that? Avoiding Victor and his messages.

Luzia said that she wasn’t going to allow them to avoid his feelings like they avoided telling Victor about participating in events. Luzia didn’t say that they had to tell Victor anything. It’d be preferable if they did; it doesn’t mean that they’re going to, though.

Yuuri tucked in their shirt and zipped their pants. They started stimming to make their clothes more habitable again. “Yuuri?” Phichit said when he came to the living room. “Are you stimming again?” Yuuri nodded. They stopped stimming and sat down; Phichit joined them. “Let me fix your collar.” Phichit flipped Yuuri’s collar down. Phichit was wearing his shoes already. “There you go. You look presentable enough for a selfie.”

“Enough?”

“Enough.” Phichit fished his phone out of his pocket and made Yuuri pose for a selfie. “Going on Instagram.” Phichit kissed Yuuri’s cheek, and Yuuri was unamused. “We can leave when you get ready.”

“Are you in a rush to get there?”

“I need to get Camille’s orchid,” Phichit said.

“If that’s the case, we should get going.” Yuuri got up and put on their shoes. They put on their coats. Yuuri grabbed their bag, and they went to the flower shop.

#

**(Tuesday, 10 November 2015 – 6:59pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Phichit got his orchid for Camille. They were waiting outside of the restaurant with Masabeeh, Tal’at, and Khoudia.

“Hey, y’all!” Camille yelled as they ran down the street. They were in dress pants and a pinstriped shirt. “I’m glad you can make it!” They stopped once they approached the five of them. “Let’s go in.” Camille was beaming. Everyone followed Camille inside, and they were seated by the window. The waitress came out and gave them menus.

“Before we all eat, I have an announcement,” Camille said. Everyone at the table quieted. “As y’all know, I’ve been out for almost two years now.” Camille looked at Khoudia and Yuuri and smiled. “Since I’ve come out, I’ve been debating on what to call myself. All of you have been so good to me, being considerate of my pronouns and all. I’ve finally decided on what I want to call myself.” Everyone nodded and waited. Camille told them their new name but finished with “But please, call me Adé.” The table broke out in applause, and Adé finished with wiping their eyes. “I’m so glad that I have y’all!” Masabeeh and Tal’at gave Adé hugs and tried to hold their tears. It was a moving sight to behold. “Now, let’s decide what we’re going to order,” Adé said with a giggle. And they did just that.

The rink mates made conversation and jokes and had a lovely evening. Adé was around people they loved and who loved and accepted them wholeheartedly. And, for them, that was enough.

#

**(Tuesday, 10 November 2015 –** **9:20pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

After dinner, Adé didn’t want anyone to leave and wanted to party their birthday night away. So, Phichit called up Yuuri’s favorite Caribbean girls and had them come to Nebula to celebrate Adé’s birthday. Nebula was what one would expect from a nightclub – loud, dark, and filled with intoxicated people. It was a sensory hellhole for Yuuri, but alcohol blunted the overwhelming dread in their chest. Diosmari and Yohani were all over each other. Alicia and Mercedes were trying to convince Masabeeh and Tal’at that nothing bad is going to happen to them because they’re in a nightclub. Jada and Nia were talking to Phichit and Adé. And Yuuri and Khoudia were taking shots. Yuuri was chastising Khoudia for taking shots when she’s sick, and Khoudia was chastising Yuuri for not stopping her from making bad decisions. In addition to Khoudia and Yuuri scolding each other and taking shots, they were tearing up the dance floor. Khoudia expected Phichit to be more of the dancing type, but, despite his extroverted nature, he was very self-conscious about his dancing. 

Khoudia had requested that the DJ play afrobeat. Yuuri thought they heard her say that the song was Le Kwa Ukwu. Who it was by, Yuuri didn’t know, but they liked it. “Yuuri!” Khoudia said as she was dancing. Yuuri thought that she called it azonto, but they couldn’t remember. They were taking shots as they whined.

“Ah! Yuuri’s whining like I taught him!” Nia yelled from their table. Jada, Alicia, and Mercedes cheered. Khoudia then started to dance coupé décalé. She was very into her dancing, and Yuuri was into her dancing, too.

“Hey! Don’t stop dancing because I’m blowing everyone away!” Khoudia shouted with a grin. The DJ transitioned into a reggaeton song. They’ve heard it at a lot of house parties that Jada’s invited them to. Adé and the Caribbean girls hit the dance floor. Diosmari and Yohani were whining on each other like the lesbians they are. “They should just get married already,” Yuuri thought. Khoudia and Yuuri were still on the floor, giving their all to the music. Phichit, Masabeeh, and Tal’at were at their table, observing the dance floor.

The music transitioned into dancehall – Wine Slow. After a bout of whining, Khoudia and Yuuri took a break and decided to sit with Phichit, Masabeeh, and Tal’at. Yuuri poured shots for them both.

“Khoudia, isn’t your family Muslim?” Phichit asked. She leaned in. “Your family. Aren’t they Muslim?” She nodded.

“I never knew you could dance like that, Khoudia,” Masabeeh said in amazement. “Same for you, Yuuri.” Phichit poured himself a shot. “Oh no, another drunk person,” Masabeeh said as she clutched Tal’at.

“Are you uncomfortable with being around drunk people, Masabeeh?” Khoudia asked.

“Not uncomfortable. Just unaccustomed to,” Masabeeh elaborated. “I’ve never been around any of you while you were under the influence of alcohol, so all of this is new.” Yuuri and Khoudia nodded. Phichit prepared shots for the three of them. They imbibed them and smiled.

“Dad, aren’t you going to Bordeaux tomorrow night?” Tal’at asked.

“What, dear?” Yuuri said.

“Bordeaux. Are you going to Bordeaux?” Yuuri nodded. Adé and the Caribbean girls came back to the table and took seats. “Ah, they came back just in time!” Tal’at said. “Everyone! Yuuri’s going to Bordeaux tomorrow!”

“Ah, is it for the skating thing?” Yohani asked. She was sitting on her girlfriend’s lap. Yuuri nodded. “What?”

“Yes!”

“Oh!” Yohani giggled.

“Have fun in Bordeaux, Yuuri,” Nia said. “Make sure you blow everyone away with your performance.” Yuuri nodded.

“I thank all of you, but this night is about my son! Pay attention to them!” Yuuri slapped Adé’s back. Adé was struck silent. They put their face in their hands. “Adé, are you okay?” Yuuri asked.

“Dad,” Adé said. They wiped their eyes with their sleeves.

“Yeah?” Yuuri leaned in to hear Adé better.

“I love you.” Adé got out of their seat to hug Yuuri. Yuuri gladly returned it. After a moment, Adé climbed into Yuuri’s lap and sat there. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Yuuri said. They patted Adé’s back gently, and they cried harder. Yuuri’s phone buzzed. Adé looked down at Yuuri’s pocket with their eyes full of tears.

“Do you want to get that?”

“No,” Yuuri said. They knew who it was, and they didn’t want to face it. They wanted to celebrate Adé’s twenty-first birthday, escape their feelings, and be around people they like without feeling like they’re on opiates.

“Oh, Yuuri, how’s that guy you’re dating?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri deadpanned. They hadn’t told Masabeeh, Tal’at, Adé, or the Caribbean girls that they were talking to someone. Khoudia was smiling.

“He’s alive,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri, why didn’t you tell us you were talking to a guy?” Alicia asked.

“We’re still not talking, really,” Yuuri muttered. “Khoudia, let’s go dance.” Yuuri let Adé have their seat, and they plucked Khoudia out of hers. Yuuri wanted to be back on the floor where the only thing they had to focus on was dancing. They didn’t have to think of Victor; they didn’t have to think about skating. All they had to do was move in time to the music and ascend. Plus, Por Mi Reggae Muero was playing.

#

**(Wednesday, 11 November 2015 –** **4:20am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Pictures were taken; memories were made. Adé and the Caribbean girls went home. Masabeeh and Tal’at were possibly scarred for life. Phichit now had a substantial amount of _other_ things he can remind Yuuri of when he needs leverage. And Khoudia is asleep on Yuuri and Phichit’s sofa with smeared lipstick on her face.

#


	29. Flame and Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Celestino touch down in Bordeaux for the Bompard.

#

**(Wednesday, 11 November 2015 – 7:28am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

"Khoudia," Phichit said. He was trying to nudge her awake. "Khoudia, wake up." She swatted Phichit's soft, little hand away and rolled over. He was fortunate that their sofa was a dark color; he wouldn't have to worry about the lipstick stains too much. "Khoudia."

“I want to sleep,” she mumbled.

“You have class today.”

"I don't now.” She yawned and rubbed her face.

“And why is that?”

“Because I said so.” Phichit sat by the coffee table and looked at Khoudia. He had his face in his hands. He was exhausted despite not drinking much or dancing their pants off last night. “Yuuri and Khoudia did enough dancing for everyone,” Phichit thought, "Next time we shouldn't go clubbing on a weekday. It destroyed everyone."

“Well, everyone except Masabeeh and Tal’at,” Phichit said out loud. “They should be fine.”

“Stop talking to yourself,” Khoudia said.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Khoudia rolled over to face Phichit.

“I was going to be asleep, but then you decided to wake me up.” Khoudia rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“So, are you going to stay with me until Yuuri comes back from France?” She nodded lazily. She tried to prop herself up.

"Yeah, just let me… let me go home and get my clothes and stuff," Khoudia said. She gave up trying to keep herself up and laid back down. She yawned. "Last night was fun." Khoudia reached for her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to ask Adé if they enjoyed their birthday.”

> Khoudia: Mamour, how did you like last night?
> 
> Adé: I loved it! I’m so glad everyone was there!!
> 
> Khoudia: That’s great! I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.

“Do you want to get your clothes now?” Khoudia nodded. “Go wash your face. I’ll go get dressed.” Khoudia slowly got up and walked to the bathroom. She quickly peeked in to see Yuuri. They were fast asleep – or so Khoudia thought – and they looked peaceful.

“Go home, Khoudia,” Yuuri said.

“Nah,” she said. She smiled and went to wash her face. When she was done, she came back and sat on the floor by Yuuri's bed. “Guess who's back?”

“My other favorite person,” Yuuri said. Khoudia beamed. Then she started to look at Yuuri's neck. “What are you doing?”

“I think my lipstick is on your neck,” Khoudia said. Yuuri didn't move. “I think some of it is on your jaw, too.” She yawned. “Don't you have to get ready for your flight?” Khoudia grabbed Yuuri's phone and took pictures of their neck, jaw, and face.

“Put my phone down.”

“Nah.” Khoudia put Yuuri’s phone in their hands. “Come on now, get up and get ready for your flight. I can't wait to see pictures of Bordeaux!”

“So you're trying to get rid of me,” Yuuri said as they sat up. They wiped their eyes. “I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Yuuri, trust me, you are the last person I'd want to get rid of," Khoudia said. "I don't want you to miss your flight. You can't sleep the day away." Yuuri made a garbling sound. Khoudia shook them awake. “Oh good, you’re up! Now gather your things. You need to get ready.”

“For someone who should be hungover, you’re rather chipper,” Yuuri remarked.

“Phichit woke me up.” Yuuri nodded. “He’s going to take me home.”

“So, you’re not staying with him for the Bompard?” Yuuri asked. They sat up fully and rubbed their eyes.

“I am. He’s taking me to get my clothes.” Yuuri nodded. “Don’t try to get rid of me so easily,” Khoudia chided.

“When I’m gone, you can sleep in my bed,” Yuuri said as they stretched. “Have fun being with Phichit all the time.” Yuuri chuckled.

“I will.” Yuuri got up, and then they plucked Khoudia up. “Phichit said that he was going to start getting ready.” Yuuri and Khoudia walked into the living room. They found Phichit sleeping on the floor. “Yuuri,” Khoudia said.

“Yeah?”

“You know what song I’m thinking about?”

“What?”

“Naima.” Yuuri nodded. Naima is a lovely song. Yuuri sat on the sofa and continued looking at him. “Do you want to wake him up?” Yuuri shrugged and rubbed their eyes. Khoudia shook Phichit awake. “You said you were going to take me to get my clothes.” Phichit nodded, got up, and went into the bathroom to get ready.

“Do you want cereal or something?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia shook her head. “We have waffles.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Check your sugar,” Yuuri said. Yuuri got up to get Khoudia’s meter out of their bag. They tossed it to her. “Alcohol lowers your blood sugar. Check it.” Khoudia checked her glucose. “What is it?”

“53.” Yuuri went into the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice. They came back and gave it to Khoudia. "I don't want orange juice. Don't you have grape juice?" Yuuri shook their head and sat on the coffee table. “Fine, I’ll take the orange juice.” Khoudia accepted it and took two sips. “Thank you, Yuuri.”

“It’s no problem.” Khoudia took two more sips of orange juice. “Just looking out for you is all.”

“My hero,” Khoudia playfully swooned. Yuuri smiled. “My _daimyō_ in _tatami gusoku_.” Yuuri started chuckling.

“Even the _daimyō_ is under the shogun.” Khoudia chuckled and took a sip of orange juice. “Plus, I’m more like a _daimyō_ in sweatpants or something. I don’t know where I was trying to go with this.”

“Ah, but you are enough,” Khoudia said. “And you’ll always be enough.” Yuuri heard the sink shut off and the showerhead spurt water.

“Is he going to take a shower now?” Yuuri shot up. “Oh no.” Yuuri dashed into the bathroom. “Do not!” Phichit was standing in his underwear. “If you shower now, I can't shower until the shower is dry, and that will take hours.”

“So you're saying right now that I have to wait to shower because of your neurosis?” Yuuri nodded. “Alright. But be done by the time I get back.” Yuuri nodded again. “I’m wearing your sweatpants.”

“Please do,” Yuuri said. Phichit smiled. “Yes?”

“Make sure you wash the lipstick off your neck when you shower, buddy,” Phichit said as he patted Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri sheepishly laughed and went into their room for his clothes. “I’m being serious. Wash your neck.”

“I’m going to.”

“Good,” Phichit said as he threw on a hoodie and Yuuri's sweatpants. "We'll see you when we get back." Phichit hugged Yuuri. "Khoudia, put your coat on!" Phichit shouted.

“Okay!”

"We'll be getting out of your hair now," Phichit said with a smile. They left to get Khoudia's things, and Yuuri took their shower. They couldn’t stop thinking about the Meiji Restoration as they washed their face.

#

**(Wednesday, 11 November 2015 – 9:00am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was dry and dressed. They were planning to leave within the hour. They checked, checked, and rechecked their bags to see if they might be missing anything. They weren’t missing anything, but they kept checking. During a reprieve, they checked their phone.

> Victor: Hey cutie ((sparkling heart emoji))
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Victor: You’re out? With people?
> 
> Victor: Nice. Maybe we should go out. With people. Or each other. ((grinning emoji))
> 
> Victor: You aren’t in class today. Did something happen?

That last text was sent ten minutes ago.

> Victor: I know you saw my texts.

Yuuri remembered that they had read receipts on and turned them off. Then they put their phone on airplane mode so they wouldn’t get notified of anything. “It’s high time to be only thinking of you, heating your body with flame and glow,” Yuuri muttered. “And it's high time for me to go,” they thought. Yuuri moved their suitcases, equipment, and carry on bag by the door. “You are a gold mine hidden in the earth,” Yuuri muttered as they put on their shoes and coat. “To purify you, we must set you on fire.”

Yuuri waited for their Uber to come so they can go to the airport. They saw their next-door neighbor. She was a conservative, middle-aged woman. She first became acquainted with Yuuri and Phichit after Phichit had to explain why Yuuri was moaning so loud that the neighbors could hear. She didn't buy it at all and commented on them being sinners in the hands of an angry God. Neither Yuuri or Phichit understood what she meant by that. The other neighbors just awkwardly laughed it off. They probably didn't believe Phichit, either. What makes it funnier was the fact that Phichit wasn't even lying. For Yuuri, the one event that could come close to that in absurdity was the incident with the Ping-Pong paddle, a snail, and a tire.

Yuuri got in a cab and went to Detroit Metropolitan Airport. There were butterflies in their stomach. They're still in disbelief that they're going to Bordeaux.

Coach Cialdini was waiting by the entrance. "I've been here since 8am. Where were you?" Coach Cialdini started walking; Yuuri followed him.

“I had a long night.”

“I can tell. Your rink mates posted about it on Facebook and Instagram.” Yuuri took a deep breath.

“So I'm presuming you've seen the pictures.”

“Only the better ones.” Yuuri looked at their shoes. If Phichit was a witness to the event, there are most definitely worse ones. He has a compulsion to document activities on social media. This outing was no exception.

“Was it Phichit, Adé, or Khoudia?”

“A combination of them,” Coach Cialdini said. “Khoudia posted the least.”

“Yeah, we were dancing all night,” Yuuri said.

“Good. Now take that enthusiasm you had when dancing with Khoudia and put that into your routines.” Coach Cialdini patted Yuuri’s back and put his hands back in his pocket. “You’re going to do great at this event.”

“Thank you for believing in me, Ciao Ciao.”

"Also, take your phone off airplane mode. I tried calling you earlier, and I kept getting sent to voicemail." Yuuri nodded and did as their coach asked. They were greeted with a flurry of texts: from Phichit, from Khoudia, from Victor. Many of them from Victor. "Yikes," Yuuri thought. They’d have to work harder to avoid Victor then.

> Victor: Class was dull without you.
> 
> Victor: I had a note to give you, too.
> 
> Victor: What are you doing?
> 
> : I’m at an airport.
> 
> Victor: Why?

Yuuri looked at Victor’s last text and decided to take Phichit’s poor advice. “Personal business,” they thought, “how bad could it be if I said that?”

> : Personal business.
> 
> Victor: Well, when you get back from wherever you’re going, be sure to tell me about it.
> 
> Victor: On our next date, specifically.
> 
> : Next date?
> 
> Victor: Yes. Let’s go on another date.

Yuuri damn near dropped their phone. They were amazed by the thought of Victor wanting to go out with them again. They wouldn't have thought that Victor would want to go out with them. “But he does,” Yuuri said to themselves.

“What?” Coach Cialdini asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking out loud.” Yuuri looked down at their phone again. “Ciao Ciao, I have a question.” Coach Cialdini nodded. “What do I do if someone wants to go out with me?” They don't have anyone else to ask, and Coach Cialdini has the most life experience out of everyone they know right now.

“Do it,” he said. Yuuri waited for him to say more. Instead, he was silent.

“How do I tell them that I’m a skater?”

“Just tell them.” Coach Cialdini wasn’t being very helpful. Blunt? Yes. Helpful? Slightly. “Does this person not know that you’re a skater?”

“They don’t know,” Yuuri said.

“Hm,” Coach Cialdini said. “My statement still stands. Just tell them. If they can’t handle you being a skater, then you don’t need them in your life.”

“And if they can’t handle it, but I want them in my life?”

“Then you’ll need to make a compromise,” Coach Cialdini said. “Why do you ask? Is there someone you’re interested in?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Yuuri said. They looked at their phone.

"Well, go on a date with that person and be honest," Coach Cialdini said. He patted Yuuri’s back again. “I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.” How could Celestino be so sure of that?

> : Do you WANT to go on another date?
> 
> Victor: I’ve said “let’s do this again” multiple times, Yuuri.
> 
> Victor: I want this. I want this a lot.
> 
> : When do you want to go?
> 
> Victor: As soon as you come back.
> 
> : Do you have any specific ideas?
> 
> Victor: [has sent an audio attachment]
> 
> _/transcript/ Um, I was thinking that we could go to a botanical garden or clubbing since that’s something you do apparently. Or we can catch a show. Or, since it’s close to Christmas, we can go ice skating. Hell, we can even get our palms read. We have options._

Yuuri and Coach Cialdini stopped walking and waited in a line. “This is going to take a while,” Yuuri mused. “I should check my other texts.”

> Phichit: I said, "see you when we get back" not "be gone by the time we get back."
> 
> Phichit: Smdh
> 
> : Ciao Ciao was waiting for me

Yuuri went to their messages with Khoudia.

> Khoudia: Yuuri!!!
> 
> Khoudia: Why did you leave???
> 
> : Ciao Ciao
> 
> Khoudia: ((eye roll emoji))

Yuuri put their phone away. Then they remembered that they should give Victor a response. So they did. They listened to Victor’s message again. They ignored the ice-skating part – they didn’t want to go ice skating with Victor. Not now, at least. They didn’t want to go nightclubbing with Victor either. Yuuri can get out of hand at times, and they wanted to be in control of themselves when they were with Victor. “What else could I respond to?” Yuuri asked themselves.

> : What kind of show did you have in mind?
> 
> Victor: I initially thought burlesque but thought against it. So maybe a comedy show?
> 
> : Or we can go to a tea house and an independent bookstore.
> 
> Victor: That sounds like a great idea!
> 
> Victor: Do you have a place in mind?
> 
> : I do.

So Yuuri explained the details of the date. Victor loved all of it, and he said that he couldn't wait for Yuuri to come back so they can go on their date. Victor’s enthusiasm ate away at Yuuri's anxiety. Quite literally. "How could he be so excited?" he wondered. "I'm going to ruin his idea of me, and he's excited."

Yuuri and Coach Cialdini moved up in line. At least, for a while, Yuuri can get their mind off of Victor and pay attention to this slow-moving line.

#


	30. A Levy to the Mute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's finally in Bordeaux!

#

**(Wednesday, 11 November 2015 – 7:42pm, Bordeaux, France)**

Yuuri and Coach Cialdini touched down in Bordeaux. Coach Cialdini was still tired from his extended nap on the plane. Yuuri was drawing and journaling during the flight. They had started drawing the selfie that Victor had suggested that they draw. They were drawing it and, so far, they liked it. The urge to destroy their sketchbook had, for the most part, subsided. All they needed to do is keep their sketchbook out of Victor's hands. Yuuri thought that that wouldn't be too hard. All they theoretically had to do was never bring their sketchbook around Victor ever again. Coach Cialdini yawned.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked.

“I’m fine, Yuuri,” Coach Cialdini said. “Take out your phone. Let’s find this hotel.” Yuuri nodded and did as Coach Cialdini asked.

“What's the address?” Yuuri asked.

“35 Cours Maréchal Juin.” Yuuri wanted to correct their coach's pronunciation but decided against it. Now was not the time for that. "Did you get that?"

“I'm trying to figure out how to spell ‘cours.’”

“Does it matter?”

"Kind of. Can't we take an Uber or something?" Yuuri asked. Yuuri looked at their coach. “Or do they not have Ubers in Bordeaux?”

“Just find a cab and let's go,” Coach Cialdini said. He was being a grouchy pants. Yuuri nodded. 

“Okay. Uber it is,” Yuuri said. Yuuri scheduled an Uber for them, and they waited outside. Yuuri wanted to text Phichit and Khoudia to let them know that they’re there, but they couldn't feel their fingers right now.

The Uber came in seven minutes. Coach Cialdini and Yuuri hurried to put their things in the trunk and got in the back seat of the car.

“ _Are you here for the Trophée?_ ” The driver asked in French.

“ _Yes,_ ” Yuuri replied after they mentally translated what the driver said.

“ _You have not been the first person I've had to drive to a hotel because they're here for the Trophée,_ ” they said. “ _I hope you enjoy it and your stay in Bordeaux._ ”

“ _Thank you very much,_ ” Yuuri said. Coach Cialdini yawned. Yuuri's hands started to warm up, and they were able to move their fingers more. They took out their phone.

> : I'm in an Uber with Ciao Ciao
> 
> Phichit: Tell him I say "hi."
> 
> : Tell Khoudia that I’m here
> 
> Phichit: Will do, ma poupée

“Phichit says ‘hi,’” Yuuri said.

“Tell him I say ‘hi,’ too,” Coach Cialdini said.

> : He says "hi."
> 
> : He's exhausted rn
> 
> Phichit: I'm going to call

Yuuri’s phone started to ring. They quickly put their headphones in, and they picked up. “Yeah?” Yuuri said.

“Hello, lapinou!” Khoudia chirped. Phichit had them on speaker. “How are you two holding up?”

“Ciao Ciao is about to drop,” Yuuri said. “And I’m right behind him, to be honest. It was a long fucking flight.” Yuuri yawned. “Did you two set the apartment on fire yet?” Phichit chuckled.

“No, not yet,” Phichit said. “We’re actually making a cake right now. I’ll let you know if something catches fire.” Khoudia chuckled. “So far, Khoudia’s mixing the batter and nothing has spontaneously combusted. I think we’ll be fine.”

“Well, if something catches fire, try to save as many of my paintings as possible,” Yuuri said. "Second thought, don't do that. Let them burn. I need a fresh start." The driver stopped abruptly at a light. "You know what I'm thinking of right now?"

“What?” Khoudia asked.

“The Autobahn.”

“W-why?” Khoudia asked.

“I don’t know! I’m just thinking about it!” Yuuri wanted to follow that statement with a useless fact about speed limits in West Germany postbellum, but they didn’t want to open their mouth anymore. Khoudia’s mouth made a sound that sounds like she had her mouth on the lip of a bottle. “What was that?”

“I am drinking seltzer water, mon lapinou,” she said. “To be specific, it’s clementine seltzer water.”

“Gross,” Yuuri said. The driver continued en route to the hotel.

“You drink aloe water, Yuuri,” Khoudia said.

“And?”

“That's gross,” Khoudia said.

“I like aloe water,” Phichit said. “Am I gross?” Phichit asked.

“Sadly, ma foi,” she said. “I don't make the rules.” Yuuri heard the oven door open and then close.

“Are you putting the cake in?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes,” Phichit said. “The batter tastes great.” Yuuri nodded. “I wish you were here to experience this with us.”

“And I wish I was there, too,” Yuuri said. "I've only been here for about half an hour, and I want to be home already." 

"And you'll be home soon," Khoudia said. "You're only there for three days, and they go by like that!" Khoudia said with a snap of her fingers. "It'll be fine. We believe in you!"

“Thank you for believing in me,” Yuuri said. The driver stopped at another light. “It's much appreciated.”

“We will always believe in you,” Phichit said. The knots in Yuuri's stomach seemed to have subsided for now. “You're going to do great.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. “Also, Phichit.”

“Yeah?” Yuuri decided not to tell Phichit about their date with Victor. Not yet, at least. They decided they'll let him know tomorrow night.

“Don't set the apartment on fire,” Yuuri said.

“We won't,” Khoudia said.

“We’re here,” the driver said. Yuuri nudged Coach Cialdini awake. Yuuri put their phone in their pocket and opened the car door. Coach Cialdini did the same.

“Okay, so Ciao Ciao and I are here,” Yuuri said. They opened the trunk of the car and got their suitcases and carry-on bag out. “It’s dark.”

“Yes, that’s what happens at night,” Phichit said.

“Phichit, take your sass and put it in your pocket,” Yuuri said. Phichit made a cluster of sounds while Khoudia was snickering wildly. Coach Cialdini closed the trunk after they got all their belongings and a shovel out of the trunk. Yuuri was sure that Coach Cialdini didn't bring a shovel with him, but, in their sleepy state, presumed that he didn't notice that he picked up a shovel.

“Don’t you have to be getting out of an automobile?” Phichit asked. Khoudia was still snickering.

“I’m already out of it,” Yuuri said. They carried their things to the entrance of the hotel and waited for Coach Cialdini there. Their fingers were starting to freeze again. Coach Cialdini walked through the open doors of the hotel, and he had Yuuri stand with him while he checks them in. Still with the shovel. “We’re checking in right now,” Yuuri told Phichit and Khoudia.

“Good,” Khoudia said. “When I got there, Ciao Ciao had to split up with me.”

“Why?” Yuuri asked.

“Something about not being able to share rooms with skaters. I shared a room with a German skater. I think her name was Franziska or Frederikke. She seemed cool; she was cute, too,” Khoudia said.

“Did you get her number?” Phichit asked.

“I did, but she never responded to my texts,” Khoudia said. “Which is a shame. I thought she was interested in me.”

“Not everyone in the world is pansexual, Khoudia,” Yuuri said.

“I know, but can’t I hope?!” She whined. “She was cute and seemed interested. And I am cute and interested!” Yuuri and Phichit were silent. “Don’t either of you act like you never knew this. We all knew this.” Yuuri shrugged.

“Trust us, we know,” Phichit said.

“Yuuri,” Coach Cialdini said. “What are you talking to Khoudia about?”

“Khoudia was talking about this girl she met at her event.” Coach Cialdini nodded. They seemed disinterested and disengaged from everything. “How about when I come back we go to Supernova?” Supernova was a gay bar that Yuuri and Phichit occasionally go to. It was unlikely that Khoudia would meet anyone that would distract her from Franziska, but it’d be a start.

“I’ll go to Supernova, but you two have to promise that you two won’t get trashed,” Phichit said.

“We were not trashed last time, Phichit,” Khoudia said. “Maybe Yuuri was, but not me.”

"No, you were, too," Phichit said. "Neither of you know how to act with a lot of alcohol in you, and I don't want any incidents. Not after last time." Yuuri shrugged. “I refuse to take part in another incident with you two.”

“We know how to act,” Khoudia said. “Yuuri, help me out here.” Yuuri made a face. She throws them under the proverbial bus and then expects them to lend a hand. They rolled their eyes. They’re still going to assist, though.

“Yeah, we’re not… we’re not that bad when we’re drunk,” Yuuri said. Coach Cialdini motioned for Yuuri to follow him. The call got disconnected. Yuuri figured that Phichit and Khoudia would call back when they realized that the call dropped.

“Your room is on the seventh floor,” Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri nodded. “Mine is on the eighth.” “Call me if you need me.” Yuuri nodded. They got off on the seventh floor and walked to their room. They tentatively opened their door and found another skater sitting on one of the beds. The skater acknowledged them with a nod and continued to flick through the television stations. Yuuri put their equipment in the corner by their bed and started to pace.

“Hey,” Yuuri said to the skater. The skater looked at Yuuri. “Are you going to shower anytime soon?”

“No,” he said. Yuuri sat on his bed and tried to get a glimpse of the skater. He had black, medium length hair and thick eyebrows. He seemed like the type to be indifferent about everything. The skater got turned off the television and left the room.

> : Who is supposed to be sharing their room with me?
> 
> Ciao Ciao: A South Korean skater, I believe.
> 
> : Is he usually quiet?
> 
> Ciao Ciao: I wouldn’t know.
> 
> : I see.

#

**(Thursday, 12 November 2015 – 3:30am, Bordeaux, France)**

Yuuri woke up to the sound of their phone ringing. They knocked their glasses down in the attempt of reaching their phone. They picked up. “Hello?” They said, letting their phone rest on their face.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Victor said.

“I am now,” Yuuri said. “What happened?” It must be an emergency if Victor is calling them this early… Late… Yuuri wasn’t sure time it was. “Did something happen?”

“Well, I missed you today. That happened.” Yuuri nodded and rubbed their eyes. "And I have more poetry to give you," Victor said. "Wait, hold on." A notification for a FaceTime request came through, and Yuuri accepted it. “There. Now I can see you, too.” Victor was grinning. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile.

"You might not be able to see me very well. I'm in the dark right now." The lamps illuminated Victor's face, and his eyes were sparkling. "Calm down," Yuuri told themselves. They felt their chest flutter. "Mm, how were your classes today?" Yuuri asked. "Yes, stick to platitudes. It's easier," Yuuri told themselves.

“They were nice,” Victor said. “Long, but nice.” There was silence. “I still miss you.”

“If it’s any consolation, you’ve been crossing my mind all day. Well, night,” Yuuri said. “Think about me, please.”

“I’ll always think about you,” Victor said with a smile.

> Mari: Hey there, little brother.
> 
> Mari: Let’s chat.

Yuuri scratched their face. “My sister is texting me right now.” Victor nodded. He looked vulnerable. “I’ll respond later.”

“Ah, you’re forsaking your relationship with your sister for me,” Victor said as he touched his chest.

“It’s not serious. She just said, ‘let’s chat,’” Yuuri said. They rubbed their eyes. "I'll talk to her later. Don't worry about it." Victor smiled. He couldn't stop smiling, it seemed. "I'd much prefer to talk to you anyway. I love my sister, but I…" Yuuri trailed off. They’re approaching dangerous territory. 

“But what?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. “I don’t know where I was going with that sentence.” Victor nodded. Victor’s phone buzzed.

“Ah, Mila texted me.” Yuuri nodded. “Hold on.” Yuuri couldn’t see Victor’s face anymore. He was checking his messages.

“Who’s Mila?” Yuuri heard a chuckle, but it didn’t come from either them or Victor. “Is she a skater?”

“She is! We’re rink mates in Saint Petersburg,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “I think she’s in Bordeaux right now.” Yuuri started to sweat, and they were glad that the night was masking them. “Yeah, she’s in Bordeaux,” Victor said. Yuuri was able to see his face again. Yuuri mused about the possibility of Victor telling Mila about them and her recognizing them. They were, once again, grateful for the night for masking the pained expression they must have on their face. The closer and closer they got to the event, the more Yuuri was dreading their decisions. Every single one of them. Victor was smiling now.

“You’re smiling a lot tonight,” Yuuri said.

“You’re not bothered by it, are you?”

“Why would I be?” Yuuri asked. “I like your smile. It’s infectious.” Yuuri said with a smile. “It makes me feel warm.”

“I make you feel warm?”

“Very,” Yuuri said. Right now, Yuuri could feel the warmth radiating in their chest, spreading outwards, threatening to swathe them entirely. “Are you tired?”

“No,” Victor said. Then he yawned. Yuuri chuckled. “Okay, maybe I am. Just a little bit.”

“Go to sleep,” Yuuri said. Then they yawned, too.

“But I want to talk to you.” Victor rubbed his eyes. There was silence. “If I go to sleep, will you let me talk to you when I wake up?” Yuuri nodded. “I can’t tell if you were nodding.”

“You can call me when you wake up,” Yuuri said. “I’ll be here in the morning.” Victor smiled. His eyes looked tired now.

“I can’t wait to have you in my arms again,” Victor remarked. Yuuri felt warmer than before. They can’t think straight when they think about Victor holding them. Yuuri had been reflecting on the way Victor makes them feel on the plane. So far, they’ve said that he makes them feel: vulnerable, bothered, warm/on fire, tingly, and alive.

“And I… I can’t wait to be in your arms,” Yuuri told him. Victor was grinning. “I wish you were with me right now.” They wanted Victor with them despite Yuuri not telling Victor about him professional skating or where they were going. Yuuri closed their eyes. “Victor is going to hate me when he finds out,” Yuuri thought. They didn’t want to think about that right now, but it’s the thought that keeps popping up. Victor is going to hate them, and he's going to leave. Yuuri doesn’t want Victor to leave. Despite their initially standoffish attitude, they liked it when Victor would talk to them. They relished it when Victor touched them. They savored it when Victor gave them bedroom eyes. The thought of Victor hating them makes them sick, but it's going to happen, and it's their fault.

But Yuuri’s trainwreck thoughts were interrupted when Victor said, “And I wish I was with you.”

“Maybe – just maybe – Victor won’t hate me after all,” Yuuri thought.

#


	31. The Envy of the Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Practice sucked and Mari tried to have a conversation about death.

#

**(Thursday, 12 November 2015 – 9:00am, Bordeaux, France)**

Yuuri awoke to the sound of chatter in their ears. It was like Yuuri was in a McDonald's or a Starbucks after classes let out. It was loud and overwhelming, and the pillow didn't muffle the sounds. They couldn't make out any of the words, but, if they could, they'd wager that it's about how they’re an absolute idiot. They couldn’t make any phone calls because the voices would overpower the person on the other end. They couldn’t run upstairs and talk to their coach; he probably wasn’t even up yet. All they were able to do was either lay in bed and try to sleep or continue with whatever they were going to do.

> : Mari, can you text me for a bit?
> 
> Mari: Did something happen? Do you want me to call?
> 
> : I’m hallucinating right now, and I won’t be able to hear you very well.
> 
> Mari: What do you need?
> 
> : Just text me.
> 
> Mari: Alright, give me like five minutes.

Yuuri got their mala out of their carry-on bag and started their deep breathing exercises. “I can do a deep breathing exercise in five minutes,” Yuuri thought. They began with a slow, steady deep inhalation that lasted for four counts. They held it for four counts. Then they exhaled for four counts. This went on until their phone buzzed. Yuuri stopped their breathing exercise and checked their phone.

> Mari: Ready.
> 
> Mari: Now, what do you want to talk about?
> 
> : I don’t know. What did you message me about this morning?
> 
> Mari: Huh? This morning?
> 
> : At 3am. I'm in Bordeaux for the Bompard.

Yuuri got out of bed and decided to brush their teeth. They bought a tube of cinnamon toothpaste specifically for travel. They went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. They rinsed their toothbrush, and their hands started shaking slightly. They brushed their teeth and tongue until their phone buzzed again.

> Mari: Oh yeah. I didn't know that it was 3am there.
> 
> Mari: Sorry about that.
> 
> : It was fine. It was kind of weird explaining it to my friend thou
> 
> Mari: What did you have to explain? Are we talking about Phichit?

Yuuri spat out the toothpaste and started to rinse their mouth. They spat again and began to wash their face. 

> : Not Phichit.
> 
> : And I had to explain that my sister was texting me rn.

Yuuri washed their face three times before it felt right for them. Their face was looking red now from the scrubbing.

> Mari: You have a friend beside Phichit now?
> 
> Mari: I am amazed, proud, and mildly annoyed.
> 
> : Why annoyed?
> 
> Mari: That you haven’t mentioned them sooner.

Yuuri washed and dried their hands and left the bathroom. Yuuri's roommate wasn't there, and they weren’t bothered in the slightest by it. They didn’t need anyone witnessing them having an episode. They barely want Phichit there when they’re having an episode.

> : Well, it's a very complicated relationship.
> 
> Mari: What's complicated about it?
> 
> : I… I don’t know exactly.
> 
> : I just know that there are very complicated feelings involved between the two of us and I…
> 
> : I don’t know.

Yuuri sat on their bed, trying to decide on what they’re going to do now. “I could go to the rink and practice,” Yuuri thought. “No, Khoudia texted me about wanting pictures as soon as possible.” They put their head in their hands. Then their phone buzzed.

> Mari: Do you like them?
> 
> : I don’t know.
> 
> Mari: I don’t know why I asked. You’re not good at stuff like this ((grinning emoji))

Yuuri rolled their eyes at what their sister said.

> Mari: What’s his name?
> 
> : Victor.
> 
> Mari: Heh, like Victor Nikiforov.

Yuuri looked at their phone and slowly got up. “I should shower,” Yuuri thought. “How am I going to shower?” They walked back to the bathroom and looked at the shower. They knew how they were going to shower but didn't know how they were going to do that. The tub looked dry, and there were clean towels in the bathroom. This is going to bother Yuuri. “Just do what you do at home,” they said. “Turn on the water. Make sure it’s hot enough to peel your skin off. And shower. It’s not hard,” they said. The voices started screaming. “Ignore the voices and get in the shower.” They were trying to goad themselves into the shower. "You can get macarons after you shower. You like macarons, don’t you?” Yuuri sat on the cold floor in the bathroom. They had already taken off their pajamas, and they were rubbing their calves. This was going to take a while.

#

**(Thursday, 12 November 2015 – 10:45am, Bordeaux, France)**

Despite the voices screaming and making noise, Yuuri was finally able to take a shower and get dressed. They wanted to go sight-seeing before they would ultimately go to the rink. Yuuri sat on the bed, thinking about the places they could go. “Would Khoudia appreciate pictures of a cemetery?” They asked themselves. "Yeah, she would. I'm going to the cemetery." Yuuri texted Coach Cialdini to let him know that they were going to walk around. Then they put their earbuds in and left their hotel room.

> Mari: How did your shower go?
> 
> : Terrible, tbh
> 
> Mari: Why?
> 
> : It took a long time for me to get in the shower, and I kept hearing screams.
> 
> Mari: Poor little brother.
> 
> Mari: Just a suggestion: You should tell your doctor about this.

Yuuri walked down the block, taking in the sights. Bordeaux seemed like a beautiful place to be. 

> : I was planning on that.
> 
> Mari: Good! You need to tell your doctor!
> 
> : Thank you for caring about me.
> 
> Mari: So, what are you doing?
> 
> : I’m going to a cemetery

Yuuri stopped at a light and waited. A family was standing next to them, gawking. “What could be so interesting about me that the entire family would stop and stare?” they ruminated.

> Mari: Whyyy?!
> 
> : Because why not?
> 
> : Also, a family is staring at me.
> 
> Mari: A family?
> 
> : Yeah. A whole family. Kids and pet dog included.
> 
> Mari: Strange.
> 
> : Life is strange.
> 
> Mari: Lmao, maybe they’ve never seen an Asian man before.
> 
> : …do they not have the internet?

The light changed, and Yuuri continued walking. The family ambled behind them. Yuuri checked Google Maps and turned the corner. They walked down the block, taking their time to look at the police station that was on the corner.

> Mari: Maybe they never expected to see a Japanese person in the flesh.
> 
> Mari: Speaking of flesh, we need to talk.

Yuuri’s face started to get warm.

> : What about the flesh?

They regretted asking. They don’t need a half-assed sex education from their sister. Not over text. Not over the phone. Hell, not even in person. Not again. They don’t want to have this “discussion” with their sister.

> Mari: The weakness of it and how we all die in the end.

Yuuri stopped in their tracks. That took a dark turn. Then they grew concerned. They’re used to being depressed and ruminating about death, but they’re not used to Mari being depressed and contemplating about death. Mari must not be alright if she wants to have a conversation about death and dying.

> : Are you okay?
> 
> Mari: What?
> 
> : Are you okay? You want to talk about death and dying, and that's not you.
> 
> Mari: Can’t I have a philosophical discussion with you?
> 
> : I mean, you could, but it's not like you. You hated your philosophy class.

Yuuri continued to walk but at a slower pace. There was a hotel next door to the police station.

> : What exactly do you want to talk about in regard to that?
> 
> Mari: You are alive and living now. Now is the envy of all of the dead.
> 
> : So you’ve watched World of Tomorrow, too, I see.
> 
> Mari: What do you know about Don Hertzfeldt?
> 
> : Enough to know that he’s an animator, and that’s from World of Tomorrow.

Yuuri stopped at a light and rechecked their phone.

> Mari: You’re side-tracking.
> 
> : And you’re not?
> 
> Mari: Bah, we’ll have this conversation later.
> 
> : If you say so, my respected elder sister.

#

**(Thursday, 12 November 2015 –** **6:30pm, Bordeaux, France)**

Yuuri met up with Coach Cialdini at the rink. He looked like he hadn’t slept much last night. “What exactly was he doing that made him look like he was having a staring contest with Dracula?” Yuuri wondered. Yuuri found their coach sitting on the bleachers.

“Ciao Ciao?” Yuuri said, looking down at him.

“Yes?”

“You look exhausted.” Coach Cialdini looked up at Yuuri, deadpan. “I would like to get in some practice before tomorrow.” Coach Cialdini nodded and got up. Yuuri got the impression that their coach was somehow upset with them. They wondered if they had done something to upset them, but then thought against that. To their knowledge, they hadn’t done anything that would bother Celestino. Yuuri put on their skates and skated to the center of the rink.

“Start with your short program.” Yuuri took three deep breaths and started. They heard the voices scream, and they flubbed their triple Salchow. “Yuuri, what are you doing?” Coach Cialdini asked.

“My short program.”

“Are you sure? Because that looked like your free skate to me.” Yuuri stood up and looked at Coach Cialdini. “Go back and try it again.” Yuuri nodded and started their short program. The voices screamed again, and they flubbed their axel jump. “Yuuri! Come here.” Yuuri skated over to their coach. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is there something on your mind? You’re flubbing your jumps,” Coach Cialdini said. “Talk to me.”

"I'm hearing voices, and they keep screaming." Yuuri’s voice was barely a whisper. Coach Cialdini nodded.

“And you didn’t tell me this earlier?” Yuuri shook their head. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. I thought it would have stopped by now,” Yuuri said. “I’m sorry, Ciao Ciao. I’ll work on my short program.” Yuuri started to skate to the center of the rink, but Coach Cialdini called them back. “Yes?”

“When you get back to your room, use your coping skills,” Coach Cialdini said. They even used the phrase that Luzia uses for their coping mechanisms. “If you brought your sketchbook, do that.”

“I’ve been doing breathing exercises every few hours.”

“Good,” Coach Cialdini said as they patted Yuuri’s back. “Now, work on your short program.” Yuuri nodded and went back to the center of the ice. They started to practice their short program, and this time it went well.

#

**(Thursday, 12 November 2015 –** **7:49pm, Bordeaux, France)**

“Yuuri!” Khoudia shouted from the other end. “Why did you send me pictures of a cemetery?” Yuuri was getting out of their clothes as they were in a call with Phichit and Khoudia.

“Do you like them?” Yuuri innocently asked.

“They’re nice, but why would you take pictures of a cemetery? Why were you walking around a cemetery? What is going on?!” Khoudia was in all of the feelings she had – which were a lot. Yuuri took off their pants and folded them. They put on their pastel pink pajama pants with bows on them. They were soft, and they were exactly what they needed for an overwhelming night like this.

"The cemetery looked nice, and I thought you'd appreciate it." Yuuri took off their shirt and jacket. “I liked it.”

“I… Thank you, Yuuri,” Khoudia said.

“I also went to the Bordeaux Museum of Fine Arts today. Do you want pictures of that?” Yuuri folded their shirt and placed their jacket at the foot of the bed. “The museum was pretty.” They put on a light blue t-shirt. Then they made a mental note to send Khoudia pictures of the museum.

“How did practice go?” Phichit asked. Yuuri heard a fork scrape against something.

“Well…” Yuuri trailed off. “If my practice was anything to go by, I’ll probably place fifth.”

“Oh, don’t say that, ma poupée,” Phichit said. “You have all of us in Detroit rooting for you!”

“Hm,” Yuuri said. They sat on their bed and went in their suitcase for 20 Love Poems and a Song of Despair. They were on the twelfth poem now. “I thank you for your support of me.”

“There’s no need to thank us, ma raison d’être,” Khoudia said. “We would support you, regardless.” Phichit’s fork scraped against his plate. “How’s Ciao Ciao?”

“He seemed exhausted when we were going over my routine,” Yuuri said. They opened their book. Then they closed it. They weren’t going to be able to read while they were in a riveting conversation with Phichit and Khoudia.

"Yeah, jetlag does that to Ciao Ciao," she said. "He gets all crabby and stuff, and he's not very sociable." There was a clattering sound. Yuuri yawned. “If he seemed on edge, don’t worry about it. He should be fine by tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’d hope so,” Yuuri said. "Tomorrow is the Bompard, and I need him to be Ciao Ciao."

"Understandable," Phichit said. "You came with Ciao Ciao, and you're going to need him to be Ciao Ciao when you skate." Yuuri rubbed their eyes. “How's Victor?”

“Alive.”

“Aside from alive,” Khoudia said.

“He's Victor,” Yuuri said.

“Ma raison —”

“Just drop it, Khoudia,” Phichit said. Yuuri was grateful that Phichit wants to drop it; however, Yuuri was sure that he was going to start snooping and prying as soon as possible.

> Victor: Can I call you again?
> 
> : I'll call you. I'm talking to my roommate right now.
> 
> Victor: Okay солнышко ((sparkling heart emojis))

“So, what are you two doing right now?” Yuuri asked, trying to change the conversation.

“I’m eating cake,” Phichit said.

"And I'm waiting for this event to start. I'm so excited!" Khoudia gushed. "Your costume is great, and you're going to do great!" Yuuri looked at their bags.

“Yeah, I guess,” Yuuri muttered. Then they went into their carry-on bag and took out their journal.

“Yuuri, I will get on the next flight just to make you believe in yourself,” Khoudia said.

“Good luck getting on the next flight here,” Yuuri said, tongue-in-cheek.

“Is that a dare?” Khoudia asked.

“Make of that what you will,” Yuuri said. They started to write “feel better” on the page.

“That’s it! I’m packing!” Khoudia shouted and ran away. Yuuri and Phichit were cackling.

“I should try and calm Khoudia down,” Phichit said. “I’ll text you. Love you, ma poupée.”

“I love you, too, mon canard,” Yuuri said and ended the call. By the time Yuuri looked back at their journal, they had written “feel better” several more times. They laid down on their stomach at the foot of their bed, taking in the room. Their roommate still wasn’t back yet. “I should call Victor,” they thought. Yuuri called him. “Hello?”

“Ah, my sunshine,” Victor said. Yuuri felt their face warm. “It’s you.” Yuuri closed their journal and put it back in their carry-on bag. “I’ve missed you today.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Yuuri said. They started to play with the pages of 20 Love Poems. “Today was a long day.”

“Same,” Victor said. “Hold on.” Yuuri nodded. A FaceTime notification came through. Yuuri accepted it. They had their phone propped against the footboard. “That’s better. I can see your face now.” Victor smiled. Yuuri smiled. “I can see your legs, too. Are you in pajamas?” Yuuri nodded. They sat properly so Victor can get a better look at their pajama pants. “They’re so pretty. Just like the person wearing them.” Yuuri smiled and laid back on their stomach.

“You’re pretty, too,” Yuuri said. They felt their face warm. Victor’s face was turning a bit pink. Yuuri’s smile started to fade when they realized that they had to submit an assignment for their art history class.

“Did something happen? You stopped smiling,” Victor said. He was still bathing in the light of his compliment.

“I remembered that I have to do that art history assignment,” Yuuri said. “I did see some nice art today.” Yuuri begrudgingly took out their laptop and started to work. They already had a piece in mind: Venus on the Waters by Johann Zoffany.

“Would you mind if I watched you do your art history work?” Victor asked.

“Kind of,” Yuuri replied.

“I’ll just look at something else then.” Victor reached and grabbed something. He showed Yuuri the cover. Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote. “I have a question, though,” Victor said.

“Ask away.”

“What kind of art does your sister like? What’s her name?”

“Mari. And she likes Tōyō, Shūbun, and Tōhaku.” Yuuri looked at their phone. Victor was nodding. "But, for Western art, she likes… I guess you can say she likes Baroque art? She likes this Triumph of the Immaculate piece. That's Baroque, I think. She likes Rachel Ruysch, too. I don’t think about Baroque art that much, but I like Juan de Pareja by Velázquez.” Victor was smiling now.

“I love it when you talk about art.” Victor smiled and looked at Yuuri. So far, Yuuri had only written their name. “You become so much more alive when you talk about it.”

“I suppose so,” Yuuri muttered as they typed out the rest of their heading. “How’s practice been going?”

“Very well,” Victor said. “Have you seen my short program?”

“No, not yet.”

“Well, you should see it.” Yuuri quickly saved their document and looked at their iMessages. Phichit had sent them a picture of Khoudia drinking out of two wine glasses. Her hair wasn't braided, and she had it in a large bun. Yuuri was chuckling. “What happened?”

> : Nerds smh
> 
> Phichit: Oh shut up lmao

“My roommate sent me a picture of our friend. She’s very anxious about the Bompard tomorrow,” Yuuri said.

“Which friend? Khadijah?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said.

“Does Khadijah follow figure skating?”

“Closely.” Yuuri looked at their document. Their paper usually writes itself, but it wasn't doing that tonight. "Khadijah loves it. She breathes it." Yuuri typed the word “the” and looked at the document. They don’t have anything to say about the painting except that they absorbed it and loved it.

“How’s your art history work coming along?”

“I wrote one word.” Victor chuckled. “I don’t know what to say about the piece I saw tonight.”

“What did you see?”

“This painting called Venus on the Waters by Johann Zoffany,” Yuuri said. “It’s stunning.” Victor’s face became a blur; they must be searching for the painting.

“It’s gorgeous.” Victor was visible again. “What’s causing the mental block tonight?” Victor asked. Yuuri shrugged. “Are you usually good at these assignments?”

“Normally I can write about the piece I’ve seen, but tonight it’s just… I don’t know,” Yuuri said. They scratched their scalp and stared the document down.

"Don't overwork yourself," Victor dotingly said. "It's only 2pm."

"It's not 2pm where I'm at," Yuuri said. "And speaking of 2pm… Don't you have a class?" Yuuri looked at Victor; Victor looked right back at them. “Victor.”

“Yes?”

“Are you not going to class today?” Yuuri asked. They took in the scene behind Victor. It looks like he’s on campus. Victor stayed silent. “Go to class.” Victor rolled his eyes when they said that.

“I want to talk to you, though,” Victor said.

“Text message,” Yuuri stressed. "We have cell phones. You can text me. Now go to class." 

“It’s just one class,” he said. Yuuri deadpanned. “Come on, _голубушка_ , it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Go to class,” Yuuri stressed. They don’t want Victor to miss class because of them. He already accidentally caused that, and they don’t want to cause that again. Victor made a face. “Go!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll go,” Victor said. “I miss you already.”

“I’ll miss you, too, but you have to go to class.” Victor had that face on him again. “Please,” Yuuri said. “Text me when you get to class.” Victor nodded and packed his things.

“Think about me while I sit in my class,” Victor said as he put on his dark green woolen trench coat. He seemed displeased about going to class.

“I’ll always think about you,” Yuuri said.

“Walk to class with me?” Yuuri squinted. “I don’t want to end the call just yet,” Victor said. He tossed his backpack over his shoulder and started to walk. He was getting stares from the people in the library. It’s kind of unusual to FaceTime as you walk, but Victor was doing it. It was akin to stopping in the middle of the street during a red light to take a selfie. Victor walked to the elevator and waited.

"So you're going to FaceTime and walk?"

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?” Yuuri was silent. “So, how is your sister?”

“She’s fine,” Yuuri said. Victor looked like he was waiting for Yuuri to elaborate on his answer. Yuuri looked back at his document. This paper wasn’t happening tonight.

When Victor assumed that he wasn’t going to get his elaboration, he said, “Tell her that I say ‘hi.’”

“I’ll be sure to do that.” Yuuri looked back at Victor. “I told my sister about you,” Yuuri said as Victor stepped on to the elevator.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“What did she say?” Victor asked with bated breath.

“That I’m clueless when it comes to emotional stuff,” Yuuri said. Victor looked at Yuuri, and Yuuri looked right back at him. “It was relevant to what we were talking about.” Victor nodded. He got off of the elevator and started to walk to the building his class is in.

“I believe you,” Victor said. Yuuri watched Victor as he walked.

“Wait!” Yuuri said. Victor stopped in his tracks. “I just understood what you meant by ‘walk to class with me.’” Victor laughed and kept walking. His eyes were sparkling now. “That took me a while.”

“You’re funny,” he said. Yuuri looked at the document one final time and closed it. It was evident that this paper wasn’t going to be written tonight – or at all, for that matter. “I’m at my building now,” Victor said. “I still don’t want to hang up.”

“I can do it for you,” Yuuri said.

"No, no. I'll do it. I have to be strong," Victor said. "I love you." Victor smiled. Yuuri was silent and dumbfounded. Victor was still smiling. Yuuri quickly hung up and laid on their bed, curled in a ball. “Well,” they thought, “good thing I wore my soft pajamas.”

#


	32. The Memory of the Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri skated and it was dope until Chris messaged them.

#

**(Friday, 13 November 2015 – 5:25am, Bordeaux, France)**

“Hey there, little brother!” Mari said. Yuuri hadn't even woken up yet, and Mari was screaming in their ear – figuratively and also literally. "How are you?"

“Still asleep,” Yuuri said. They turned their head to see if their roommate ever came back. He did; he was sound asleep. “Are we going to have that conversation now?” Yuuri asked. They turned their back towards their roommate and looked at the wall near their suitcases.

“We are, but first: Did the voices stop?” Mari asked.

“Yeah, they’ve stopped,” Yuuri said, fighting a yawn. “Now, about this conversation.”

"Yes," Mari said. "The Roman politician, Cicero, once said ‘The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living,' and I think that that's such a great quote to remember when thinking about loved ones who have died." Yuuri nodded. "And Lao Tzu said ‘Life and death are one thread, the same line viewed from different sides' and that's a good reminder that, despite the two seeming to be so different from each other, they are the same, only separated by this mortal coil."

“Did someone we know die?” Yuuri asked. Mari was silent on the other end. “Mari?”

“Yes?”

“Answer my question.” Mari ended the call, and Yuuri deadpanned. They placed their phone back on the nightstand. “What is wrong with her?” Yuuri muttered. "She's acting weird. Weirder than Victor," they thought. They couldn't get what Victor said last night out of their head. "I love you," they mused. "Seems premature. Or false." They rubbed their eyes. "Why is everyone acting weird?" Yuuri grabbed their phone and decided to text Mari to ask her what her issue was.

> Mari: Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely. Buddha.

That text was sent immediately after Mari hung up.

> : Mari, are you sure you’re okay?
> 
> : I'll forsake the Bompard to make sure you're okay.
> 
> Mari: I’m fine.
> 
> Mari: I’m more worried about you.
> 
> Mari: You and your bipolar disorder and autism and all.

Yuuri squinted at their phone and called her. “Don’t try and flip this on me, Mari,” Yuuri said, straight out of the gate. "You're the one skirting around everything, and I just want a straight answer."

“I’d give you a straight answer, but I know how you are. You won’t handle it. I’m trying to lessen the blow for you.”

"How are you lessening the blow? Nothing you've said lessened any hypothetical blow. It's just making me anxious." Yuuri was sitting up by now, looking at the outline of their feet under the covers.

“I can either tell you now or tell you later, but you won’t like it either way,” Mari said, her voice a whisper.

“So tell me then,” Yuuri said. “What are you trying to shield me from?” They kept their eyes on their feet. Then they focused on the thread count, mentally unthreading the sheets. After a silence, Mari opened her mouth.

“I can’t do this,” she said and hung up. Yuuri put their phone back on the nightstand and got their journal. They’re going to have a lot to tell Luzia in their session next week. They were writing, not reaching for their white-out tape, and didn't stop until they forgot how to say "livid" in English. Then they remembered that they hadn't told Phichit or Khoudia about their next date with Victor. They simultaneously calmed down and tensed up when they started thinking of him.

> : Hey, poupée, I have a date with Victor when I get back to America.
> 
> : Just letting you know. I kept forgetting to tell you.
> 
> : Also, if you and Khoudia are awake, both of you need to be good children and go to bed because you have school.
> 
> Phichit: Two things:
> 
>   1. I had a feeling that you’d be having a second date!!!
>   2. No shut up it's only 11pm here
> 

> 
> : Hard-headed children you two are
> 
> Phichit: Khoudia says stop being judgmental when you’re a weird artist.
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]

Yuuri sent a selfie of themselves, making a face of sheer disgust. Phichit sent back crying emojis. Then a call came through. “Ma poupée,” Phichit squealed.

“Mon canard,” Yuuri said.

“Mes lapins,” Khoudia said. “So, about this second date.” Yuuri made a face and started to laugh. “Do you two already have plans?”

“We’re going to a tea house and a bookstore.” Yuuri laid back down and tried to create a new warm spot on their bed. “It’s going to be nice.”

“Are you going to make him get scones?” Khoudia asked.

“I only made you get scones because I was concerned about your blood sugar,” Yuuri said. “You can’t fault me for being concerned, can you?”

"You have a weird way of showing your concern, and that's probably why no one gets you," Phichit said. "Have you considered asking Luzia to help you with that?"

“Briefly, but I thought it was a dumb idea," Yuuri said. “I know Luzia wouldn’t mind working with me, but I don’t feel like asking her to ‘help’ me with this problem you think I have. If I think there’s a problem – or if Ciao Ciao believes there's a problem – I’ll tell her about it.” Yuuri yawned.

“I don’t know what any of us would do without Luzia,” Phichit said.

“Luzia is your… therapist, right?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri presumed that Phichit nodded in response to her question. “Then who is Noemie?”

“Noêmia. She’s my psychiatrist.”

“What’s the difference between the two?”

"One prescribes medicine, and the other doesn't," Phichit explained. “Noêmia prescribes medicine.” There was a brief silence. “Have you called Luzia to tell her about your date?” Yuuri remembered that they wouldn't be home in time for their session. "No?"

“No.”

“Call her when you get the chance,” Phichit said. Yuuri nodded. They went further under the covers. The covers weren't soft or sensory pleasing like their covers in Hasetsu or Detroit, but they were passable. Like Khoudia said, Yuuri would only be in Bordeaux for, at least, three days. “Yuuri? Are you still there?”

“I’m here. It’s just really early right now. I’m kind of tired,” Yuuri said.

“You talk about us needing to be good children and go to bed on time, but what about you? You’re up ass early, talking about us needing to be good children yet look at you! Hypocritical,” Khoudia said. Yuuri chuckled. "Now, if I were there, this wouldn't be a problem." Yuuri could see Khoudia popping her collar and making a smug face.

“I’m sure you would make me sleep had you been here with me.”

“I would,” Khoudia said.

“Would you two either fuck or get off the sex swing?” Phichit said. Yuuri was shocked by what he just said.

“Excuse me, Phichit, I need to know where you learned this foul language,” Yuuri said. They were laughing now. “This is unbecoming for a child of your age.”

“I’m an adult,” Phichit pointed out.

“And you’re our son. And our son should not be speaking foully,” Khoudia said. “Plus, Yuuri has a boyfriend. And I like girls more than guys.”

“He’s… never mind,” Yuuri said. They curled themselves into a ball. They've been trying to not ruminate on where their relationship with Victor currently stands. It does nothing but stress them out. They knew how to separate "sex" from "feeling," but – for some reason – they couldn't do it this time, and they weren't sure if they wanted to distance it this time.

“How do you feel about the Bompard being hours away?”

“I want to vomit, to be honest,” Yuuri said. "I can't think straight, and the anxiety is eating away at me." They rubbed their eyes. “I think I'm going to try and go back to bed now.”

“Alright, mamour,” Khoudia said. “Sleep well. We're going to be rooting for you!”

“We love and miss you! Be great!” Phichit said.

“I will. Thank you,” Yuuri said and ended the call. They yawned and wiped their eyes. They were genuinely tired now. “Maybe I'll go to sleep finally,” they thought as they drifted off into sleep.

#

**(Friday, 13 November 2015 – 6:26pm, Bordeaux, France)**

It's time; the event is starting. They’re going third tonight. The warm-up is over. The first two skaters to go are Georgi Popovich and Leo de la Iglesia.

“Hey!” A small voice yelled from behind a door. Then the person the voice belonged to knocked.

“Yes?”

“Are you Yuuri Katsuki?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come in?” Yuuri looked at the door and decided to open it. There was a small, Asian boy with messy brown hair standing in front of them. “Hi!”

“H-hello,” Yuuri stammered out.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” He said. “I must be missing something,” Yuuri thought to themselves. They didn’t know who this small child was or why they were standing in front of their door, but here they were. “I have to text Phichit about this!” Then it made more sense. The small boy was texting Phichit in his frenzy.

“Are you one of Phichit’s friends?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah! But we haven’t met yet. But I see you all over his Snapchat!” Yuuri smiled. "I can't believe that it's you! And you're so tall!" Yuuri chuckled nervously. “Can I get a picture?”

“Sure.” Yuuri and the boy took a selfie together, and the boy was grinning from ear to ear. "What's your name?"

“Guang Hong Ji.” Yuuri nodded. “Don’t you follow me on Instagram?” Yuuri thought and shook their head. “That has to change. Give me your phone.” Yuuri gave Guang Hong their phone, and Guang Hong did the same. Yuuri barely remembered their Instagram name, but it wasn’t too difficult to find. Phichit tags them in a lot of rink photos. Guang Hong got a follow notification from Yuuri; Yuuri got one from him, too.

“Guang Hong!” Someone yelled from the hall. Yuuri poked their head out of the door.

“I’m right here!” Guang Hong called out in response. The person ran to Guang Hong’s side and smiled. “Guess who I found here?!”

“You must be Yuuri Katsuki," the tanned, brown-haired guy said.

“Phichit’s Snapchat?” He nodded.

"I'm Leo de la Iglesia." Leo hugged Yuuri; Guang Hong was trapped in between the two. "I finally get to see you in person."

“Aren’t you skating tonight?”

“That I am,” Leo said. “You’re going after me, right?” Yuuri nodded. “I wish you all the luck in the world.” Yuuri awkwardly smiled. “We should take a selfie!” Leo suggested. Guang Hong and Yuuri threw up peace signs, and Leo just smiled. Then he took a selfie with Yuuri by himself. “What’s your Instagram? I don’t think I follow you.” Leo gave his phone to Yuuri, and Yuuri gave him their Instagram.

“How did you two find me?”

“Well, Phichit told me that you were at the Bompard participating, and I told Leo,” Guang Hong said. “So, Leo and I raced to find you.” Yuuri nodded.

“Are you participating, Guang Hong?”

“No, not this season,” he said. “But I wanted to come and support Leo.” Yuuri nodded. Leo was smiling.

“We should let you continue to get ready,” Leo said.

“I want to talk to my new Asian friend some more, though,” Guang Hong said. Yuuri lightly chuckled. They didn’t know that they are friends with Guang Hong now. “Leo, _mi amado_ , please.” Leo’s tawny skin started to turn a bit red.

“You don’t mind if Guang Hong stays, do you? I have to continue getting ready.”

“He can stay,” Yuuri said. Leo smiled. “Good luck today.”

“I’ll be back to reclaim Guang Hong when I finish dressing,” Leo said. “It was nice meeting you!”

“It was nice to meet you, too,” Leo said. He waved at Yuuri and walked away. The grinning Guang Hong stepped inside Yuuri’s dressing room and took a seat by the door.

"I can't believe I'm in the same room as you!" Guang Hong was positively gushing. He took out his phone and started texting. "This is so exciting." He stopped texting when his phone buzzed. "That was Phichit. He's glad that I encountered you."

“I’m glad I encountered you, too,” Yuuri said as they fixed their shirt in front of the mirror.

“Who makes your costumes?” Guang Hong asked. “I love your skirt!”

“I make them myself.” Yuuri looked at Guang Hong’s reaction from the mirror. “The skirt took a while, though. I kept getting tired while I was sewing.”

“You’re so good at sewing.” Guang Hong smiled. “Can I touch your skirt?” Yuuri walked over to Guang Hong and stood in front of him. “Can I?”

“Go for it,” Yuuri said. Guang shyly touched Yuuri’s skirt.

“It’s really poufy,” Guang Hong said. His phone buzzed. “That’s Phichit. Hold on.” Guang Hong took out his phone and started texting. Yuuri went back to the mirror and started to apply their makeup. “Yuuri, turn around.” Yuuri turned around, and Guang Hong took a flick.

“Did you take a picture?”

“For Phichit.”

“Oh, okay then.” Yuuri turned back around and continued to apply their eyeliner. “So, how old are you, Guang Hong?”

“I’m sixteen,” he chirped. “Do you need me to help you with your makeup?” He asked. Guang Hong got up and sat next to Yuuri. “I am really good at doing eyeliner. Trust me.” Yuuri took a deep breath and relinquished control of their eyeliner. “Close your right eye,” he said. Yuuri did as he asked. “By the time I’m done, your eyeliner will be so sharp!”

“Sharp?” Yuuri asked. Guang Hong nodded.

“It’s a good thing,” he assured them. He did Yuuri’s right eye. “Now, close your left eye.” Yuuri closed their left eye, and Guang Hong did their eyeliner.

“Yuuri, are you ready?” Coach Cialdini knocked on the door. “I’m coming in,” Coach Cialdini came in and saw Guang Hong doing Yuuri's eyebrows. "Yuuri, who is this?”

“This is Guang Hong Ji, Phichit’s friend,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t think he’s supposed to be back here.” Guang Hong finished up Yuuri’s left eye and smiled shyly. “Are you participating tonight?” Coach Cialdini asked Guang Hong.

“I’m here with Leo de la Iglesia.” Coach Cialdini nodded. “He’s busy getting dressed right now.”

“Shouldn’t you be with him?”

“Should be,” Guang Hong said as he checked Yuuri’s eyeliner. “But I told him that I wanted to talk to Yuuri for a bit. He said that he'd be back when he finishes dressing." Coach Cialdini nodded. “Are you Yuuri’s coach? Yuuri, did you already put on your mascara?” Yuuri shook their head and gave Guang Hong their mascara.

“I am his coach.” Guang Hong applied Yuuri’s eyeliner. “You know you’re not supposed to be back here, right?” Coach Cialdini said. He sat by the door.

“I know,” he said.

“But you’re just going to sit here and do Yuuri’s makeup, aren’t you?”

“Exactly that,” Guang Hong sweetly said. Coach Cialdini rolled his eyes at the sight. Coach Cialdini muttered something about “hard-headed skaters” under his breath. “Yoshi!” Yuuri smiled. "Your eyeliner is sharp, and you're going to dazzle everyone. Now, let's take selfies for Phichit and Instagram." 

“Question: Does Victor Nikiforov follow you on Instagram?” Yuuri was concerned about the possibility of Victor seeing them. They don’t know how they’re going to tell Victor – if they ever get around to telling him, that is. They still don’t know how they’re going to tell him and how he's going to react to it, but Yuuri has decided that they’ll have to tell him eventually. They want things to work between them. And things can't work if Yuuri is going to be obsessing over this.

“I wish!” Guang Hong said as he snapped a flick of Yuuri. "If he followed me on Instagram, I would die." He giggled. "Pose with me." Yuuri posed with Guang Hong several times for several flicks. “Ah, this is great,” he said. “I can’t wait until Phichit is here with us. It’s going to be great!” Yuuri smiled.

“It is going to be great.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed several times.

> Victor: I know I told you that I'm in love with you yesterday and that probably freaked you out a lot, but I want you to know that I miss you a lot, and I wish you'd text me back.
> 
> Victor: So, uh, I miss you.
> 
> Victor: And text back.

> Phichit: So you’ve finally met Guang Hong
> 
> Phichit: He loves you as much as I love you already
> 
> Phichit: And he just met you
> 
> Phichit: Stop being so heckin lovable, Yuuri

> Mari: I think I'm ready to talk to you about what's going on
> 
> Mari: Let me know when you're done with your event
> 
> Mari: I love, miss, and cherish you, my dear younger brother

“Oh, you should give me your number, too. I want to send you the pictures,” Guang Hong said. They exchanged phones and put their numbers in them. Yuuri gave Guang Hong his phone back, and he quickly sent the photos. "Let me give you Leo's number, too." Yuuri gave Guang Hong their phone and put Leo’s number in it.

“Millennials with their social networking,” Coach Cialdini said under his breath. Yuuri internally chuckled. Someone knocked on the door to Yuuri’s dressing room.

“Who is it?” Yuuri asked.

"It's Leo." Guang Hong leaped up and got the door. "Ah, it's you," Leo said. He hugged Guang Hong tight and waved at Yuuri. “I’ve come to reclaim him like I said I was.” Yuuri smiled. “Once again, good luck, Yuuri!” Yuuri nodded. “Let’s go, Guang Hong,” Leo said. Yuuri saw them off, and they were arm in arm. It was a warming sight to see. 

“Now, Yuuri, start stretching,” Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri did as he asked. They took deep breaths as they stretched and tried to give themselves a round of positive self-talk before they stepped on the ice. They decided to channel the enthusiasm they had when they were clubbing and hold on to it so they could perform.

#

**(Friday, 13 November 2015 –** **7:45pm, Bordeaux, France)**

“Yuuri, you did great!” Coach Cialdini said as he patted their back. “It seems like you took my advice.” Yuuri nodded. “But it also seems like there was more than just ‘take the fervor you had when you danced with Khoudia’ in it.” Coach Cialdini placed his hand in the space between him and Yuuri. They were at the kiss and cry, waiting for Yuuri’s score.

“There was.”

“You should tell me about it over dinner.” Yuuri looked at their coach. “Let's go out to eat. My treat.”

“Can we go out to eat when we're back in Detroit?” Yuuri asked. "I'm not hungry right now." Coach Cialdini patted Yuuri's back again. “Thank you, Ciao Ciao.”

“It's no problem.” Yuuri’s phone started to buzz furiously. No doubt that it’s Khoudia and Phichit.

> Khoudia: Phichit is in tears over your performance, and I'm literally shook!

> Phichit: ilysmmm
> 
> Phichit: Your performance was beautiful [ugly cries]

> Khoudia: Now, tell me, who was that performance for? ((smirking emoji))
> 
> : It was for me. All for me.
> 
> Khoudia: ((eye roll emoji))

“Yuuri, put your phone away. Your scores are coming in.” Yuuri gave their phone to their coach and put their hands in their lap. Yuuri’s jaw dropped when they got their score. Coach Cialdini pulled them into a hug. Then Yuuri started to cry. One of the cameramen asked Coach Cialdini why Yuuri was crying if they did well. "He's just happy," Coach Cialdini said. Coach Cialdini patted Yuuri’s back until they stopped sobbing and pulled away. “How do you feel right now?”

“I feel good,” Yuuri said. They wiped their eyes with their sleeves. “I’m so happy.”

“You deserve to be happy,” Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri’s phone started to buzz furiously again. Coach Cialdini gave Yuuri their phone. “Who is it now?”

“Oh, it’s Adé and Masabeeh.”

“Oh, your children,” Coach Cialdini said. Coach Cialdini knows very well that most of the younger skaters call Yuuri “dad” or some variation of it. He was very sympathetic to Adé’s reasoning on why they do it.

> Adé: Papaaaa!!!
> 
> Adé: I’m so proud of you!
> 
> Adé: You did so well!
> 
> : Thank you, my dear son.
> 
> Adé: ((crying emojis))

> Masabeeh: Tal'at and I want to say congrats on placing second tonight.
> 
> Masabeeh: ((heart emojis))

> Mari: Mom and Dad are in tears because of how great you did tonight.
> 
> Mari: You have the entirety of Japan cheering for you.
> 
> Mari: We love you, my dearest younger brother.

“Now, it’s time to face the cameras,” Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri took deep breaths and nodded. It’s time to be interviewed.

#

**(Friday, 13 November 2015 –** **9:45pm, Bordeaux, France)**

“Yuuri!” Khoudia said from the other end. “We are so happy right now!” Khoudia set the laptop down on the coffee table. They’re FaceTiming now. Khoudia and Phichit were in their pajamas, grinning from ear to ear.

"We're so happy for you," Phichit said. "I knew you had the fire in you." Yuuri smiled. “We’re still shaking.” Yuuri’s roommate came in. Yuuri quickly put in their headphones. “Who’s your roommate?” Phichit asked.

“Seung-gil Lee, I think,” Yuuri said. Seung-gil looked over at Yuuri from his seat on the bed. “Sorry, Seung-gil. My friend was asking who my roommate is.” Seung-gil shrugged and threw his shoes by the door. “So yeah, it’s him.” Khoudia nodded.

“Get his autograph for me,” Khoudia said.

“Khoudia, I can’t–”

“I’m not asking if you can or cannot. I’m telling you to do it. Get me his autograph,” Khoudia sternly said.

“Hey, Seung-gil,” Yuuri said. Seung-gil looked over at Yuuri. “Can I have your autograph?” Seung-gil’s face was unreadable. Yuuri took out their sketchbook and opened it to a blank page, hoping that Seung-gil would agree to it. Seung-gil walked over to Yuuri’s bedside and knelt in front of their sketchbook.

"Do you want it in Hangul or English?"

“Both?” Seung-gil nodded and reached for the pen that was on the nightstand between their beds. “Thank you for the autograph, Seung-gil,” Yuuri said. Seung-gil nodded and finished autographing Yuuri’s sketchbook.

“I’m going out,” Seung-gil said. They made a face. “Would you like to come?” Seung-gil sounded pained when he said that. Yuuri shook their head. They still don’t feel like eating. “Okay.” Seung-gil changed clothes and put on a different pair of shoes. He’s just wearing all black. “I am leaving now.” Yuuri nodded, and Seung-gil left their hotel room. 

“Yuuri, he asked you to go out with him," Khoudia said. "You should've gone!" Yuuri reached for their journal and opened it.

“I don’t want to go out with Seung-gil. Plus, I think he’d rather be alone right now.”

“He’s usually alone, though, isn’t he?” Phichit asked. "He doesn't talk to anyone, and he barely posts on Instagram unless it's about his dog. He's almost as bad as Yuuri.”

“Cheap shot, lapin,” Yuuri said. Yuuri started writing in their journal. “Keep talking, you two. I’m just writing in my journal.”

“Ooh, what are you writing?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri stopped writing and looked Khoudia in her eyes. Then they continued writing. “Are you not going to tell me?”

“No,” Yuuri said.

“Disrespectful,” she said. “Just disrespectful.” Yuuri continued to write in their journal. “How’s Victor?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. “I haven’t talked to him today.”

“You should! Your boyfriend must be bursting at the seams with joy over your performance.” Yuuri stopped writing and looked at Khoudia again. Phichit looked at the floor. “What? Did I say something wrong?” Yuuri stopped writing in their journal; they’re going to need to be unoccupied for this.

“Victor doesn’t know that they’re a skater,” Phichit said. Khoudia made a face.

“Why in the fuck does he not know?” Khoudia said. “Yuuri, how do you manage to not tell someone such an important fact about yourself? I don’t understand any of this.” Khoudia didn’t give them any chance to answer; she was silently incensed. “When you get back, you better tell him,” she said. Yuuri nodded. Khoudia is a force to be reckoned with at times.

“How do I go about telling him?”

“Figure it out, mamour,” she said. “And Phichit,” she said, “what horrible advice did you give Yuuri?”

“I don’t know why you’re involving me,” Phichit said. “Yuuri decided not to tell Victor months ago. I just said that if he asks that they should tell Victor that they were handling some personal business.” Khoudia made a face when she heard Phichit’s answer.

“That was terrible advice if I’ve _ever_ heard it,” she said. “Ma raison, I’m going to have to call you back. Phichit and I are going to have a discussion.” Yuuri nodded and ended their FaceTime call. Khoudia is going to have a lot to say to Yuuri once she’s done with Phichit.

Mari: Hey there, little brother.

Yuuri, in their haste, called Mari. “Whoa, I didn’t expect you to call so quickly,” she said. “How does it feel to be in second place?” Yuuri was silent. "Hold on." A FaceTime notification came through, and Yuuri accepted it. Yuuri propped their phone against their computer. “Well?”

“It feels good. I’m still in denial that this is actually happening,” Yuuri said. Then they smiled. "But I'm still not out of the woods yet. I have my free skate tomorrow evening, and I need to do well for that, too." Mari nodded. 

"Well, we'll be supporting you tomorrow, too," she said. "Minako was watching with us earlier. She was so glad. She was complaining about your ‘free leg' though. No clue what she meant by that." Yuuri chuckled.

“Mari, are you going to tell me?”

“Not yet,” she said. “Tomorrow, for sure.”

“‘Tomorrow, for sure,’” Yuuri mocked.

“Yuuri, don’t make me come to Bordeaux,” Mari said. “I’ll come to Bordeaux just to discipline you.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and chuckled.

"Isn't it 3 am?" Yuuri asked.

“It is.”

“Go to bed.”

"You go to bed," she said. "I was going to go to bed, but you called me." Mari scratched her head and yawned. "Do you want to watch me sleep?"

“Why would I watch you sleep?” She shrugged. “You can go to bed. I'll be fine.”

“I'm sure you will be,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my respected elder sister.” Mari smiled and ended their call. Yuuri finished a sentence in their journal and put it away. They laid down and started thinking of ways they could break this news to Victor. They didn't have many ideas, but they did know that they didn't want to start it with “we need to talk.” That would cause unnecessary anxiety for the both of them. Plus, it's clichéd as all hell. They rolled on their side, and their phone buzzed.

> Victor: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Victor: I'm watching Grave of the Fireflies

Victor sent a picture of himself, wrapped in a blanket and clutching a pillow.

> Victor: P.S. Text back. I know you're alive.
> 
> : You got me.
> 
> : Now pay attention to your movie.
> 
> Victor: [has sent an attachment]

Victor was pouting now. Yuuri wiped their face with their bedsheet. “Wait, I'm still wearing makeup.” They didn't realize that until they rubbed their eyes and found eyeliner on the sheets. Yuuri got up to wash their makeup off. When they came back, they saw that they had a text from Chris.

> Chris: Your performance tonight was amazing

Yuuri almost dropped their phone. They dreaded something like this happening, but they decided that they were going to play it cool and act as casual as possible.

> : Aah, thank you~
> 
> Chris: It's no problem
> 
> Chris: What does Victor think about the spectacle?
> 
> : He doesn't know about it yet

Yuuri went in their bag for their mala and started a deep breathing exercise. They avoided looking at the ellipses and didn't stop their exercise until their phone buzzed. Waiting for Chris’ felt like forever for Yuuri. Chris’ text was a short question with an incredibly complex answer.

> Chris: Why not?
> 
> : I just haven't told him yet.

"More like ‘I thought about telling him but became filled with anxiety at the thought of telling him, so I never did,'" Yuuri muttered.

> Chris: You should tell him
> 
> Chris: I'm sure our Vitya would love to share in this experience with you
> 
> : I'm sure he would.

Yuuri put their phone down and started to play with the hemming on their pajama pants.

> Chris: If you don't tell him, I can and will, sweetie
> 
> Chris: I don't mind
> 
> : I'd prefer to tell him myself
> 
> Chris: Okay ((grinning emoji))

Yuuri didn't respond to Chris' last message and, instead, decided to watch "My Neighbors, the Yamadas." It's a light-hearted Ghibli movie, and it's on their safety plan. Yuuri was watching and enjoying the film until Khoudia started calling. They paused their film with a sigh and answered. Khoudia was sitting down, calmly. Phichit looked like he got a talking-to.

“Hello there, ma poupée,” Khoudia said. “Are you ready to have that discussion?”

“Depends. Am I going to look like Phichit by the time you’re done talking?” Khoudia looked over at Phichit. Then she looked back at her computer.

“Probably,” she said. “Now, Katsuki Yuuri,” she said. “How in the fuck do you see someone for going on three months and not tell them about your figure skating career?” The beginning of her question was punctuated with claps.

“I–”

“Shush!” She said. “I am speaking. Do not speak when I speak.” Yuuri nodded. “In what universe does not telling someone you’re interested in a crucial part of your life make sense? Where in the fuck do they do that at?” She asked. “Well?”

“I’m sorry, you want me to respond now?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia nodded. "Well, it doesn't. It doesn't make much sense."

“So why did you do it? What contrived logic did you use to reach that conclusion?” She asked.

“I–I was just anxious about the entire thing, so I thought that I’d wait until there was a better time to tell him,” Yuuri muttered. “But the better time never came.” Khoudia nodded. “So here I am.”

“There will never be an opportune moment handed to you. You have to make them on your own,” Khoudia said. “So, what are you going to do right now?” Yuuri was silent. “Yuuri, answer me.”

“I… don’t know?” Yuuri said. "You didn't tell me to do anything when you said you were going to talk to Phichit." Khoudia glared at them. This is going to be a lengthy discussion for the both of them.

#


	33. The Autumn Dusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who placed second at the Bompard.

#

**(Saturday, 14 November 2015 – 2:22am, Bordeaux, France)**

Yuuri’s phone rang several times before they picked it up. Their Zyprexa had them knocked out. They reached over to the nightstand, knocking over their glasses in the process. Yuuri knew who exactly it was calling, and they didn’t hesitate to pick up. “Hey,” Yuuri said once they put their phone to their ear. “How are you?” They rubbed their eyes and rolled on their side.

“I’m fine. Just tired and lonely.”

“ _Por desgracia,_ ” Yuuri said as they yawned. Khoudia’s lectured tired Yuuri out; they went to bed immediately after she was done. “What’s making you feel lonely?” They asked despite having an idea of the answer.

“You’re not here,” Victor said. “Also, you haven’t talked to me in what feels like forever.” Yuuri rubbed their eyes. At that moment, they felt like a terrible boyfriend for not responding to their baby for hours at a time, being unintentionally emotionally unavailable, and being all-around dull.

“I’m sorry, Victor,” Yuuri said. “If it’s any consolation, I’m lonely, too.” And that something Yuuri was sure of. They were all by themselves in Bordeaux, had nary a friend or lover at their side, and was cold. They felt cold in their bed, and they knew what could remedy this cold bed. 

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to contain myself once I see you again,” Victor admitted. Deep down, Yuuri felt the same. "Speaking of, when will I see you again? What day are you coming back?" 

“I should be back by Tuesday,” Yuuri said.

"Can I come to see you Tuesday night?" Yuuri could feel that Victor was grinning with mischievous delight. Hypothetically speaking, Yuuri would be okay with seeing Victor on Tuesday night if it wasn’t for the fact that they were going to be stone tired on Tuesday afternoon. Plus, Yuuri felt that Victor should be spending their time practicing.

So Yuuri told him that. “Don’t you have practice?”

“I can afford to skip a day,” he said. Yuuri rolled their eyes. They disagree vehemently with that thought.

“Honestly?” Yuuri said. “I’ll probably be asleep for a while. I wouldn’t be much fun for you.” Yuuri yawned again.

"I'm fine with just looking at you," Victor said. There was a silence between the two lovers. "Hold on." Yuuri knew what that meant and awaited the FaceTime notification and accepted it. “Turn on your light.” Yuuri reached over to the nightstand and turned on the light. They propped their phone against the nightstand and rubbed their eyes. “ _Солнышко_ ,” Victor said. He was grinning.

“It is I.” Yuuri smiled. Victor was lying in bed, snuggled up to a pillow. “Are you going to bed?”

“I was planning on it, but then I decided that I needed to talk to you before I go to sleep.” Yuuri nodded and smiled.

“So you called me,” Yuuri said. They scratched his chest and smiled. “That makes me feel… overjoyed.” Victor was grinning hard. “How was your day?”

"Boring and lonely," Victor said. "My dear, the secrecy is killing me. Where are you?" Yuuri rooted down in their bed, and the blanket obscured their face. At that moment, they were grateful. “I can’t see your face.”

“I’m in Europe.”

“Where?”

“France.”

“Are you at the Bompard?” Victor asked. Yuuri felt their heart beat faster. They tried to take deep breaths, but their body wasn’t allowing that. “If you are, you could’ve told me. I can tell you how to meet skaters!” Yuuri removed their blanket from their face. They were confused. Why is Victor happily volunteering this information? “Do you want to meet Georgi? I will give you Georgi’s hotel room number.”

“Victor, I –” Yuuri wanted to tell Victor that they were there because they were a skater, that he was the skater they’re dreamed of meeting all along. But they got cut off.

“His room number is 707. He should be awake right now!”

“Victor, it’s two in the morning. He’s probably asleep,” Yuuri said. They were wide awake now.

Victor scoffed. “It’s Georgi. Go to his room,” he said. “If you don’t go, I won’t go on our next date.” Yuuri looked at their phone and sighed. They got up and stretched. At that moment, they decided that they were going to visit Georgi. So that Victor goes on that next date with them. “Are you going to go?”

“I am.”

“Aah! Bring your phone!” Yuuri nodded. "He likes this musical called ‘Hamilton' so if you don't know what to talk to him about, talk about Hamilton." They got out of bed and stretched.

“I love Hamilton,” Yuuri said as they looked for their slippers. “Do you know what his favorite song is?” They found their slippers by their suitcase and put them on.

“No. I never watched Hamilton,” Victor admitted. They felt a tinge of disappointment. “But if you like it, I should probably watch it.” Yuuri stretched again. They grabbed their phone and silently left their hotel room. They hoped that leaving the lights on wouldn’t bother Seung-gil. “Also, if you want to meet skaters, it helps to have a room booked in the official hotel. That makes it a lot easier.” Yuuri walked to room 707 and knocked. They could hear someone sobbing to “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.”

“Hello?” Yuuri said as they knocked on the door. Victor was giggling wildly. Georgi came to the door, and he stood tall like he wasn't just sobbing his eyes out to a story he already knew but was revisiting.

“Who are you?”

“Zhora!” Victor said. Georgi looked at Yuuri’s phone. Then he looked back at Yuuri. “I told him to come and see you.”

“Well, I don’t want to see him,” Georgi said. He closed his door in Yuuri's face, and Yuuri stood there. “Go. Away.”

“Knock on it again,” Victor said. Yuuri did as they were told.

“What do you want?” Georgi asked as he opened his door again.

“Uh, Victor tells me that you like Hamilton,” Yuuri muttered. Victor nodded. “What other musicals do you like?” Georgi shut the door again. Yuuri looked at their phone; Victor was silent. “I should just go back to my room.”

“Yes, you should,” Georgi said from the other side. He started playing The Adams Administration. Georgi cracked his door open. “You should still go.”

“Zhora,” Victor said, “stop being pissy.” Georgi rolled his eyes. “Let him talk to you!”

“How do you even know him?” Georgi asked.

“I met him in Detroit!” Victor gushed. “Isn’t he a cutie?!” Georgi closed the door again. “Huh, I wonder why he’s upset.” Yuuri knew exactly why Georgi didn’t want to see them. Yuuri currently placed above him. Of course, Georgi wouldn't want to talk to him. "You can go back to bed, Yuuri.” Yuuri walked back to their room and quietly opened the door. They silently got back into bed and placed their phone against the nightstand. "I'm sorry Zhora was such a sourpuss tonight."

“Why did you call him Zhora?”

“It’s a diminutive.” Yuuri nodded and laid on their back. “Yura would be one of the diminutives of your name.” Victor smiled. “Мой Юра.”

“What did you just say?” Yuuri asked. They got themselves situated in their bed and looked up at the ceiling. Yuuri could take the change and ignore the ceiling threatening to close in on them and their roommate.

“‘My Yura,’” Yuuri said and smiled. The sensation of being called his Yura threatened to envelop them. “What time is it?”

“It’s 2:44,” Yuuri said. “Also, you listen to Hamilton, usually.”

“Pardon?”

“You usually listen to the Hamilton soundtrack.” Yuuri scratched their chest. "Hamilton tickets are tough to acquire." 

“Do you want to see it?” He asked. Yuuri looked at Victor. He was sitting up now, and he didn't have a shirt on. Yuuri took a deep breath; they were going to avoid temptation tonight.

“I’d love to, but tickets,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. “I should let you go to bed.”

“That’s my line!” Victor squealed. “You should meet Mila, too, but I think she’s at a different hotel.” The idea of meeting another one of Victor’s rink mates was tempting, but they didn’t want to get back out of bed. Or get another door slammed in their face.

“I think I’ll let Mila be,” Yuuri said. “I don’t want to get another door slammed in my face.” They yawned.

"Understandable," he said. "I should hang up, but I don't want to. But you need to go back to bed." Victor rubbed his eyes. "This is difficult," Victor complained." I want you to myself."

“And you’ll have me to yourself on Friday,” Yuuri said.

“Is that when our next date is? Friday?” Yuuri nodded. “I’m going to be all over you on Friday,” Victor said. “I want you to take me home and bend me over and –”

“Victor, do not!” Yuuri shouted; they could feel their face get all hot. Victor makes them all hot. They quickly looked over at Seung-gil; he’s still asleep.

"‘Do not' what?" Victor coyly asked. "We're both adults, and it's nothing neither of us hasn't done before." Victor smirked. "So, once I see you, it's over."

“And I can’t wait for it to be over,” Yuuri said. That sensation that threatened to envelop did precisely that this time. They didn’t know what to do with themselves now.

“You might need to start wearing a turtleneck after Friday.”

“Victor, no,” they said.

"I told you that I wouldn't be able to contain myself when I see you," Victor said. "Wow, am I going to be sore after Friday.” His turquoise eyes were shining when he winked at Yuuri. “I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“I can’t wait to be home.”

“I’ll let you go to bed now,” Victor said. “Think of me while you go to sleep?”

“I will as long as you do the same,” Yuuri said with a smile.

“Of course I will.” Victor ran his hand through his hair. “I love you.” Victor ended the call. Yuuri put their phone back on the nightstand and turned off the light. They had a lot to process now: Victor knowing they’re at the Bompard, Georgi knowing they’re in Bordeaux, Victor wanting to them to dig in his guts as soon as they get back in Detroit, Victor saying “I love you” again. They could feel their insides churn in anticipation. Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Victor: I hope my _солнышко_ sleeps well ((sparkling heart emojis))
> 
> : And I hope you sleep well, too ((grinning emoji))
> 
> Victor: Think of me as you drift off into sleep
> 
> : I will.

Yuuri laid on their back, staring at the ceiling. They were yawning fiercely, and their eyes were filled with sleep, but they couldn't will themselves to be extra tired so they could go back to sleep. 

#

**(Saturday, 14 November 2015 – 6:12pm, Bordeaux, France)**

“Ah, Yuuri!” Guang Hong said. Yuuri was flattening out their shirt. Guang Hong came into their dressing room and sat in the chair by the door. 

“Does Leo know you're here?”

"He knows," Guang Hong said. "His mom is doing his hair right now, and I said that I was coming to find you." Yuuri nodded. “Do you need help with your hair? Phichit told me to help you with your hair. I’m going to help you with your hair.” Yuuri looked over at Guang Hong, and he was beaming. The child bounced up and started to brush Yuuri’s hair back.

“How’s your family?” Yuuri asked as they shifted in their seat.

“They’re fine,” Guang Hong said. “They’re not very enthused about me being here with Leo, but they’ll get used to it. How’s yours?”

“I haven’t seen them in years,” Yuuri said. “I want to see them again. I miss them.” Yuuri was allowing themselves to be genuinus for a moment. They loved their family terribly despite their inability to keep in contact in the way they would like. Their parents may not have understood them very well or what they were and wasn’t able to do, but, when it came to supporting dance – then figure skating, then art – career, they were supportive. Mari was like that, too, at first. But then she started to put the pieces together and became more understanding of them. That led to the deepening of their relationship. One of the first things they did together after she started to understand them was to take them to an art museum in Fukuoka. That outing changed Yuuri’s life and how they relate to their sister.

“Ah, you should! I’m sure they’d love to see you!” Guang Hong put gel on his hands and finger-combed Yuuri’s hair back. Yuuri nodded.

> Phichit: Take a picture of Guang Hong for me.
> 
> : On it.

Yuuri opened the camera app, held up their phone, and took flicks of them and Guang Hong. He sent them to Phichit, and Phichit sent back thumbs-up emojis. “Did Phichit ask you to send pictures?”

“Yes.”

“Nice,” Guang Hong said. He grabbed the comb and started to comb Yuuri’s hair. “Tell him that I’m doing your hair.

> : He’s doing my hair right now.
> 
> Phichit: Adorable.
> 
> Phichit: Guang Hong is such a sweet, pure child.
> 
> : Just like my baby ((heart emojis))
> 
> Phichit: ((crying emojis))

“So, Leo’s mom is his coach?” Guang Hong nodded. “Is she nice?”

“She’s so great,” Guang Hong said. "Mama Soledad likes me! That makes me happy." 

“Is that her name? Soledad?” Guang Hong nodded. “It’s pretty.”

"It's María Soledad, but she doesn't like being called María, so she said I could call her Soledad." Guang Hong ran the comb through Yuuri's hair again. "But she's so motherly, you know? I have to call her ‘Mama' when I say her name."

“She sounds lovely,” Yuuri said. “I should get around to meeting Mama Soledad.” Guang Hong was grinning. “What? What are you going to do?”

“Where’s your coach?”

“He’s in the bathroom.”

“We can go see her!” Guang said as he wiped his hands on a towel. “I’m sure she’d love to see you.” He was brimming with joy. Yuuri wondered where people like Phichit and Guang Hong get their enthusiasm about life from. Who must they talk to about being an actual light being stuck in a mortal coil? "Let me do your eyeliner, and we can go see her." Guang Hong grabbed Yuuri’s mascara and applied it. Then he started to do their eyeliner.

“You really like Mama Soledad,” Yuuri said, absently. Guang Hong didn’t nod or say anything. He was busy trying to make Yuuri’s eyeliner sharp.

“Have you met Phichit’s family?”

“We’ve Skyped before. Phichit’s had to translate for me when they’d call.” Guang Hong made a sound. “I think they like me. They were glad that Phichit made another Asian friend,” Yuuri said. Guang Hong started to do Yuuri’s other eye.

“You have such lovely cheekbones,” Guang Hong said. He was smiling now.

“Thank… you?” Yuuri said. They were unsure of what Guang Hong meant by "you have lovely cheekbones," but it didn't feel malicious in the slightest. Guang Hong had Yuuri make a face.

“And I’m done! Now, let’s see Mama Soledad.” Guang Hong jumped up and grabbed Yuuri. Yuuri got up and followed Guang Hong to Leo’s dressing room. “Mama Soledad!”

“Ah, you’re back, Guang Hong,” she said as she brushed Leo’s hair. “And you’ve brought a friend.” Yuuri and Guang Hong saw her smile in the mirror. “Hello there.”

“Hello,” Yuuri said sheepishly. “I’m Yuuri.” She closed her eyes and continued brushing. “It’s nice to meet you.” She opened her eyes and kept her eyes on the mirror. Yuuri was standing by the door; Guang Hong had already taken a seat.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, dear,” she said. “Are you skating tonight?” Yuuri nodded. “Leo and I wish you luck tonight, Yuuri.” Yuuri couldn’t see her face clearly, but she was smiling now. “Where are you from?”

“I’m Japanese, but I skate in America.” She nodded.

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Greatly,” Yuuri said.

“Remember to do what you enjoy and live fully and passionately, dear,” she said. Yuuri looked at their feet. This is the second time they’re gotten unsolicited life advice from someone while they were in Bordeaux. Instead of saying anything, Yuuri smiled. “Guang Hong, take Yuuri back to his dressing room. He needs to get back to his coach.”

“Yes, Mama Soledad,” Guang Hong said. He gleefully got up and grabbed Yuuri by the arm.

“It was lovely to meet you, Yuuri,” Mama Soledad smiled. “Once again, Leo and I wish you luck.”

“We do! Good luck, Yuuri,” Leo said. “Mama, _¿puede cocinar carnitas con arroz rojo para mí cuándo llegamos a casa?_ (Mom, can you cook carnitas with red rice when we get home?)” he asked his mother.

“Of course, my love,” she said.

“Come on, Yuuri, let’s go,” Guang Hong said. Yuuri opened the door for them, and they walked back to Yuuri’s dressing room. “So, did you like Mama Soledad?” Yuuri nodded. “Good.” Guang Hong opened the door to Yuuri’s dressing room. Coach Cialdini was sitting by the door. “Sorry, sir! I just had to borrow Yuuri for a bit!”

“Go back to Leo,” Coach Cialdini said. Guang Hong nodded and dashed out of the dressing room. Coach Cialdini closed the door and looked at Yuuri. “You need to learn how to stay put. You have to stretch.” Yuuri nodded.

“Sorry,” Yuuri said.

“I’m glad I didn’t allow Phichit to come along. I imagine that you’d be even worse.”

“Probably,” Yuuri said. And so, Yuuri stretched and warmed up until it was time to go on.

#

**(Saturday, 14 November 2015 –** **8:30pm, Bordeaux, France)**

Yuuri cried when they got their scores again. They couldn’t believe that they placed in the way that they did. Coach Cialdini was overjoyed for them, and Yuuri’s phone won’t stop buzzing. Yuuri's heart was beating frantically, and they were shaking fiercely. They were in disbelief that this was happening to them. They were actually at an international skating event. They competed in the event; they placed in the event. Not only were they in disbelief, but they were also in a state of shock that many people would only dream of being in.

Coach Cialdini gave Yuuri their phone as they stepped off the ice for the final time of the event. They had texts from all their rink mates, praising them and showering them with love.

> Adé: Papa!
> 
> Adé: You killed it again!
> 
> Adé: I’m so proud!
> 
> Adé: [has sent an attachment]

Adé sent a selfie of them ugly crying. Their afro was patted down in some places, and their under-eye bags were puffier than usual. Their dark brown eyes were wet with tears, and the tears were leaving tracks on their gritty, oily face.

> Guang Hong: Amazing performance!!

The last time Yuuri saw Guang Hong, he was waiting near the kiss and cry, looking useless. Leo’s mother was stroking Leo’s head as he got his scores.

> Tal’at: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Tal’at: Masabeeh and I want to congratulate you on your scores!
> 
> Tal’at: We are so happy.
> 
> Tal’at: You bring us honor.

Tal’at and Masabeeh were in their dorm’s living room, watching the Bompard together. They were in their Elmo and Cookie Monster onesies, snuggled together like the best friends they are. They had cans of Coke, a bowl of pretzels, and their covered feet on their table. They were beaming something fierce.

> Khoudia: Babyyy!
> 
> Khoudia: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Khoudia: Why are you so talented?
> 
> Khoudia: How do you make music with your body like that?
> 
> Khoudia: We should make a baby, so our baby can be an amalgamation of what we are when we skate.
> 
> Khoudia: And I don’t even like kids.

Khoudia was grinning. Her eyes were crinkled in delight. Her hair was still large – she said she was changing that soon – and her nose was as big as it was the day they left Detroit. Right now, Yuuri wished that they could hear her laugh. It was unattractive, but it was uniquely hers.

> Phichit: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Phichit: I told Khoudia to stop texting you about having a baby together, but she wouldn’t.
> 
> Phichit: So, I want to formally apologize for her being weird.
> 
> Phichit: P.S. Let’s make a baby, baby.

Phichit was rolling his eyes at Khoudia's texting antics. His hair was messy, and his eyes were half shut. He must’ve been drinking a lot with Khoudia. Yuuri wondered if Khoudia started dancing at any point in time that they were watching. Then they wondered if, at any point, Phichit suggested that they watch anime instead of watching the events. 

> Christophe: I like your style.
> 
> Christophe: It’s very unique. Very… sexy.
> 
> Christophe: I’m sure your boyfriend would be proud of you.

Yuuri was looking at their medal as they laid in bed. It was gorgeous, and Yuuri couldn’t stop staring at it. Yuuri reached for their phone and took a picture of the medal as it rested on their chest. They looked at the photo, mesmerized. Yuuri’s phone rang; it was Mari.

“Hey there, little brother!” Mari said. “We're all proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. "I'm still in disbelief that this is happening."

"Well, believe it, kid. It's happening. You're second place at the Trophée, and everyone here is in a state of ecstasy."

“I am, too,” Yuuri said. “All I can do is bathe in this glorious feeling, Mari. I don’t have anywhere to put the feelings.”

“Draw it out like you used to,” Mari said. “Unless you’ve found a new way to deal with ecstasy.” Yuuri closed their eyes and played with the strap on their medal.

“What are you implying, Mari?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Unless you’re implying that I’m implying something. Because, if so, we can explore that.” Yuuri was silent. They felt like they were ascending into a higher plane of existence. They didn’t know what to do with this feeling.

“I don’t think I want to do that right now.”

“You just want to bask in your victory?”

“If that’s what you call lying in bed when you feel like you’re floating, then yes,” Yuuri said and opened their eyes again. Mari snickered. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” she said. “Maybe you can visit us for your spring break. Mom and Dad would love to see you.” Yuuri nodded. “They want to make katsudon for dinner in honor of you.”

“That’s lovely,” Yuuri said. They were still floating. "Did Mom do it already?"

"No, she said she'd do it tonight." Yuuri nodded. “Yuko’s wedding is coming up. Will you be able to make it?”

“I doubt it. Be sure to take a lot of pictures of her for me.”

“I will,” Mari said. “She’s going to look beautiful. I can feel it.” Yuuri was stone silent again. “Should I let you be?” Mari asked. “You seem like you’re still floating.”

“I am,” Yuuri said. “Thank you for calling me, Mari. I love you.” Yuuri closed their eyes again and breathed. Mari said her piece and ended the call. They put their phone down. Then their phone buzzed.

> Khoudia: Ma raison! How are you feeling?
> 
> : Like I’m floating.
> 
> Khoudia: “Pride” floating or “spiritual experience” floating
> 
> : A mixture of the two.
> 
> Khoudia: Sounds intense.
> 
> : It is.
> 
> Khoudia: I’ll leave you be then. I don’t want to kill the mood.

Yuuri put their phone back down and looked at the ceiling. Khoudia was right when she guessed that their light feeling was intense. They felt disconnected from their body, but oh so more aware of their body at the same time. Their headspace was tingling, and it felt like they were in a dream. They never want this feeling to go away; instead, they want to intensify it. "What can I do to make this feeling stronger?" they asked themselves.

“Talk to Victor,” a small voice within them said. “That’s a surefire way to intensify the feeling.” Right now, the feeling is so intense that they can barely speak like an average person. Would intensifying that feeling be the best idea? 

“Yes,” they said. “That’s exactly what I want.” They opened their eyes and decided to send them a text.

> : Hey
> 
> Victor: ((heart eyes emoji))
> 
> : What?
> 
> Victor: I can’t believe you texted first.
> 
> Victor: This makes my heart all fluttery
> 
> : This is making my head feel dreamy.
> 
> Victor: You’re dreamy.

Victor’s last text set Yuuri’s soul on fire. They took deep breaths and started to play with the strap of their medal.

> : You set my soul alight.
> 
> Victor: Glaciers melting in the dead of night
> 
> Victor: Wyd rn? I’m in class.
> 
> : Text me when you get out of class then. I don’t want to disturb you.

Yuuri put their phone down and looked at the ceiling again. They took off the medal and put it in their carry-on bag. Then they just sat on the floor. They didn’t want to move, nor did they feel the need to. Somehow, someway, they reached a new height with their ecstasy by just being on the floor. They’re going to be here for a while.

#


	34. Warm Leatherette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a banquet [doo-doo-doo-doo]

#

**(Sunday, 15 November 2015 – 9:35am, Bordeaux, France)**

It's the last day of the Bompard. Yuuri’s floating feeling eventually subsided. Right now, they were in a local café, journaling about last night. They also decided to switch it up and get a French vanilla latte. They don’t like coffee products that much, but they wanted to try something different today. When Yuuri got their latte, they took a picture of it. They included their journal in the image, too. It fits the coffee shop aesthetic.

Yuuri decided to text Khoudia even though it's 3am in America.

> : Our next event is next week.
> 
> Khoudia: Yeah, I know.

Yuuri’s phone rang. “I can’t believe that our event is next week,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded. “Are you excited, silver medal winner?”

"A little bit," Yuuri said. They took a sip of their latte. “To think that we’re going to be in Russia together in a few days. It feels unreal.”

“Well, believe it!” She giggled. “I think we’re staying in the same hotel.” Yuuri looked out of the window. They saw two teens together, and it made their heart hurt. “Once I remember where I wrote down my hotel, I’ll tell you. Imagine if we’re on the same floor!” Yuuri could feel Khoudia smile. "I'll be sure to come to visit you every day. We can have sleepovers–"

“I don’t think the ISU would allow a sleepover.”

“We don’t have to tell them about it,” she said. Yuuri rolled their eyes and smiled. “We can even go sightseeing together!”

“That’d be great,” Yuuri said. “But first, is Phichit awake?”

“Nope. He fell asleep hours ago.” Khoudia sucked her teeth. Then a picture from Khoudia came through; it’s of Phichit sleeping. “I’m in the living room watching anime.”

“What were you watching?”

“Free!” Khoudia said. “I’m almost done with season two.” Yuuri nodded. "I am still in love with Rin, and I am still shipping Makoto and Haru." Yuuri giggled. “After I finish Free!, I think I’m going to watch that anime you were telling me about.”

“I tell you about a lot of animes, Khoudia. You’re going to have to be specific.”

“It's the one with the demiboy and roses,” Khoudia said. Yuuri took a sip of their latte and touched their chin. Yuuri could name about five gender non-conforming characters, and only one of them was a demiboy.

“Rose of Versailles, you mean?”

“Yeah, that one.” Yuuri started to draw a rose in their journal.

“Don’t start watching it yet. I want to watch it with you,” Yuuri said. It’s been a while since they’ve watched Rose of Versailles.

“Fine. I’ll watch Madoka Magica,” Khoudia said.

“No! Do not watch that,” they stressed. The woman at the other table looked at Yuuri. They felt their insides churn in embarrassment. “Anything but Madoka Magica. Watch Death Note or something.”

“I already finished Death Note.”

“Well, finish it again,” Yuuri said. Khoudia sucked her teeth. The woman at the other table looked away from them. “Just don’t watch Rose of Versailles or Madoka Magica.” Phichit had Yuuri watch Madoka Magica with him over the summer because they were talking about being a magical girl. Yuuri fancies themselves as a lovely magical girl; Phichit agrees. “How’s your brother?”

“Which one? The child or the aspiring producer?”

“Isn’t the aspiring producer also a child?”

“Well, yeah, but the child is a literal child,” Khoudia said. “And my brothers are fine. Annoying, but fine.” Yuuri nodded and took a sip of their latte. It’s cooled down; they took another sip. “What are you doing?”

“I’m in a café right now.” Khoudia made a sound. “That’s why I can’t be as loud as I usually am.”

“When are you usually loud?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri chuckled. “I should really find that notebook. Hold on, ma raison.” Khoudia put down her phone and went to her bags. Yuuri continued to draw the rose in their journal. It was turning out well.

“Can you hear me?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah!” Khoudia bellowed as she was checking her bags. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just wondering if you could hear me,” Yuuri said.

“Question: Do you think that if I ask Adeola and Fatou to help me pack for next week while I get my equipment, they’ll do it?” Khoudia asked.

“Depends. Does Adeola know that your short routine is about her fiancé?”

“No.”

“Then probably,” Yuuri said. “Speaking of, why don’t you like him?” Khoudia has brought him up before, but she never said why she doesn’t like him.

"He unnerves me," Khoudia plainly said. "And his younger brother is even more unnerving. I don't like either of them, and I don't think he's a good fit for our family." Yuuri took a sip of their drink. They were starting to grow accustomed to the taste.

“Why don’t you just tell Adeola that?”

“I tried. She wouldn’t listen.” Khoudia sucked her teeth. “But she claims that she loves him. So I guess I’m stuck with having a creeper for a brother-in-law.” Khoudia huffed. “But maybe I won’t have to see him once they get married. I’m hoping I won’t have to see him at all, but once every year would probably be doable. But am I going to only see him once a year? No! Because they’re probably going to move somewhere nearby and they’ll be celebrating the holidays with us.” Khoudia took breaths. “I hate him so much, Yuuri. Oh so much.”

“I can tell, ma petite sirène.” Khoudia exhaled deeply.

“Look at you, being all French and fancy,” Khoudia said and giggled. Yuuri heard pages turn. “Okay, I think I… found the notebook! Yeah! I found it!” Yuuri took a big sip of their latte. "Okay," Khoudia said, "I'm going to be at the Go-Gostin…Gostinitsa Arena." She paused after she sounded it out. "Is that even a hotel?!" 

“I don’t know. You have your computer nearby, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Look it up,” Yuuri said. They went to the notes section of their phone and scrolled through them. “I think I’m staying in that hotel, too. I’m checking my notes right now.” Yuuri found the notes. “Yeah, I’m staying there, too.”

“Oh, excellent!” Yuuri nodded. “What floor will you be on?”

“Sixth, I think.”

“Same!” Khoudia cried. “Floor mates!” Yuuri finished the rose and put their journal back in their bag. “It’s like the ISU wants this sleepover to happen!” Yuuri smiled. They took another large sip of their latte. “If only Phichit and Adé could come with us,” Khoudia lamented.

“It’s a tragedy, yes, but it’s probably for the best. We wouldn’t be focused on anything at all if they came with us.” Khoudia made a sound in agreement.

“Imagine if we did better because they were there,” Khoudia said with a laugh. “Khoudia Bâ Sène and Yuuri Katsuki rank first place in their divisions. Their secret? Adé Pie and Phichit Chulanont’s combined presence at the Rostelecom Cup.” Khoudia cackled; Yuuri was grinning.

> Chris: Good morning, cutie.

"Hold on; I just got a text from Chris." Yuuri went to the app to respond.

> : Good morning.

“Who’s Chris?”

“Christophe Giacometti.”

“How did he get your number?” Khoudia asked.

“Victor gave it to me,” Yuuri said. They took one final sip of their latte and sighed. They enjoyed that.

“Why am I the last to learn about anything?” Khoudia questioned. “I genuinely feel like you and Phichit conspired to keep this knowledge away from me.”

“Ma perfection, I would never do that to you.” Khoudia sucked her teeth.

“Mm-hm,” she said.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I do, but I’m still upset,” Khoudia admitted. “I’ll get over it, though. Maybe.”

“I should let you go to bed,” Yuuri said. "Isn't it like 4am there?" 

“It is,” she said.

“Thank you for calling me this morning,” Yuuri said. “I needed that.” Yuuri smiled and buttoned their coat. They put on their bag and threw away their latte as they left. They wanted to do some sightseeing today since Khoudia found their cemetery pictures unsatisfactory. First, they wanted to go to the Pont de Pierre. Then they wanted to go to a few churches, the Porte Cailhau, and the Bordeaux National Opera. Today should be a fun day for Yuuri. Yuuri's phone started to ring, and they picked up, not knowing who it was. "Yeah?"

“Hey, cutie,” Chris said.

“Aah, it’s you,” Yuuri said.

“Who did you expect it to be?” Chris asked. “Vitya?” Yuuri bit their lip. Is “Vitya” a nickname that Yuuri didn't know about? They didn't have time to ponder that; Chris is expecting a response.

"No. I just didn't expect you to call." Yuuri stopped at a light. “How are you?”

“So far, I'm pretty good. I just fed Jana.”

“And how is Jana?” Yuuri yawned.

“She's doing great. Do you want to talk to her?” Chris asked.

“Sure,” Yuuri said. Chris called for his cat, and he gave her the phone. She butted her head against the microphone. "Hello, Jana. I am glad that you're doing well." Jana meowed and butted her head against the microphone again. "Thank you, Jana." Yuuri smiled. Jana head-butted the phone again. "So kind, so caring," Yuuri said.

“I know, right?!” Chris gushed. “Jana is honestly a perfect being. I love her so much.”

"I can understand why." The light changed, and Yuuri resumed walking down the nearly deserted sidewalks. Yuuri slowed down their pace; they don’t have to walk like they’re running out of time. Not right now, at least.

“What are you doing, cutie?” Chris inquired.

“I’m going sightseeing,” Yuuri told him. Chris made an inquisitive sound. “I’m going to the Pont de Pierre.”

“Is French architecture something you’re fascinated by?”

"No, it was just a suggested spot for tourists, so I decided to come and take photos," Yuuri said. “Also, my friend is disappointed in my cemetery photos.” There was a beat on Chris’ end.

“Why were you at a cemetery?” Yuuri mentally kicked themselves for even bringing up cemeteries. No one seems to know how to approach the topic, and Yuuri didn’t know how exactly they would explain to people why they would dare to step foot in one.

So Yuuri said: “Cool statues.” Yuuri found the statues to be spectacular and worthy of photos. They would be right in place on their aesthetics blog.

“I see,” Chris said after a beat. He doesn’t ‘see.’ “And where are you going after you see the Pont de Pierre?”

“A few churches, the national opera, the castle monument.” Yuuri stopped at another light. “How’s Switzerland?” Yuuri asked.

“Lovely, as usual,” Chris said. “You should come to Zürich. I think you’d enjoy it.” Yuuri nodded. “The city is beautiful at night. Dominique loves it.” Yuuri looked down the street to see if any cars were coming; they weren't, and they started walking.

“Is that your partner’s name? Dominique?”

“Yes. It fits him.” Yuuri could feel Chris’ smile through the phone. “Oof! Jana returned!” Yuuri chuckled. Chris set the phone down and stroked his cat’s back. “Jana,” Chris cooed. “Jana, Jana, Jana.” Yuuri chuckled again. "Cutie, I'm going to have to call you back. Jana is here, and I'm going to sing to her. Bye, cutie!" Chris ended the call. Yuuri decided to listen to music as they walked. They settled for the Nine Inch Nails’ cover of Memorabilia. For now, at least. They’ll switch to The Cure or Bauhaus eventually, but, right now, they’re going to bask in the sensory abuse.

#

**(Sunday, 15 November 2015 – 6:30pm, Bordeaux, France)**

Coach Cialdini called Yuuri back to the hotel. He said that they had to attend the banquet. Yuuri would rather not do that, but their coach wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. So Yuuri put on the best of what Phichit picked out for them and passed the time working on a sketch of a tree they saw and listening to Warm Leatherette on repeat. Yuuri kept muttering “join the car crash set” as they tried to fix a branch. Phichit hates this song because of its simplicity and repetitious nature, so Yuuri doesn't listen to it when they’re busy drawing at home. Phichit is, however, usually okay with Cabaret Voltaire. Then Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Victor: I can’t believe you’re going to be home soon.

Yuuri reread the text, unsure of how to respond. But then they settled for something simple.

> : I can’t believe it either.
> 
> Victor: Also, I have to tell you something.

Yuuri paused Warm Leatherette. They felt their heartbeat quicken. What could Victor possibly want to tell them? That they know their little secret? That he lied about loving them? That he’s tired of them and would rather have Yuuri lose their number? Yuuri’s mind was running 1,000 miles an hour. Then their phone buzzed.

> Victor: I’ll call you.

Yuuri's phone started to ring, and they picked up. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be at my event on Friday, so we can’t go out then.” Yuuri nodded. “However, we can go after class on Wednesday. If you want, that is.” A smile broke out on Yuuri’s face. They were relieved that it wasn’t anything that their troubled mind was conjuring up.

“What time do you have in mind for Wednesday?”

“After art history. Unless you’re doing something important in your math class.” Yuuri thought. They don’t have to do anything too significant in math. Their math presentation isn't due until the last Wednesday in November, and they’ve been working on it consistently in class since October.

“That’d be nice,” Yuuri said. They hate the idea of skipping class, but they’re also looking forward to this date.

“Still the tea house and the bookstore, right?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said. They started to look at and deconstruct their socks. “The tea house isn’t far from Wayne, so we should be able to walk there.” Victor made a sound of acknowledgment.

“How’s the last leg of the Bompard?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not there.”

"That is disrespectful to every single ice dancer I have ever met," Victor jokingly said. "Ice dancing is exciting."

"I know it's exciting," Yuuri said. “I just don’t want to watch it tonight.” Yuuri broke their eye contact with their socks. “Victor.” Their voice was a whisper, but Yuuri was going to make themselves confront the topic of their skating career. They were going to say something before they could chicken out of it. 

“Yes?”

“When I come back, we need to talk,” Yuuri said. They felt a lump form in their throat. “It’s about something really important.”

“Any hints on what that could be?”

“No,” Yuuri said. “I didn’t want to say ‘we need to talk’ because that’ll just make the both of us anxious and it’s overly dramatic, but we do have to talk. I’m sorry I had to word it that way.”

“It’s fine,” Victor said. “Also, turn on your read receipts.” Yuuri deadpanned. “Out of all the things he could say, he tells me to turn on my read receipts?” Yuuri asked themselves. “And take me off of ‘Do Not Disturb.’” Yuuri looked at their phone.

“Where did you get the idea that I have you on DND?”

“Your texting is infrequent.”

“I’m in France. And I don’t have you on DND,” Yuuri said. “Speaking of DND, do you like it?”

“Why would I like being put on DND?”

“No, no, the game DND. You know, Dungeons & Dragons,” Yuuri said. When they used to dorm, they would play it with their dorm mates. They liked it a lot and hated having to stop when they moved in with Phichit. They tried to set up a dungeon of their own, but they didn't know enough people to have one, nor did Khoudia want to be part of something so ostensibly nerdy. "Have you played it?"

“I’m not familiar with it,” Victor said. “Is it fun?”

“I enjoy it,” Yuuri said. “I wish I could play it again. If you ever have the chance to play it, take it. It’s fun.” Yuuri yawned. Today has worn them out. “How’s your day going so far?” Yuuri asked.

“Good. I finished Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” Victor said. “I don’t know what to read now.”

“The Stranger by Albert Camus,” Yuuri suggested. “It’s a quick read.”

“I don’t think I have that,” Victor said. There was a weighty silence in the air. “Maybe I’ll get it on Wednesday. Do you like it?”

“I enjoyed it,” Yuuri said. They opened their journal again and started to read it. “I related a lot to Meursault.”

“Do you like philosophy?” Victor inquired.

“It’s something I think about from time to time,” Yuuri admitted. “I have a copy of Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra. I can give it to you when I come back to Detroit.”

“Don’t forget to bring your sketchbook.”

“I never forget my sketchbook,” Yuuri said. This was true. They usually keep their sketchbook on hand.

“Good,” Victor said. “I’d like to watch you draw tomorrow. If that’s okay with you, that is.”

“I’ll think about it,” Yuuri said. “Are we going to do this and that tomorrow?” Yuuri felt their face get warm. They couldn’t believe that they were being straightforward and asking that type of question. To Victor, no less.

“If ‘this and that’ is what I think it means, yes. If you want to, that is.” Yuuri felt themselves get warmer. “Do you miss me that much?”

“I do,” Yuuri admitted. They took a deep breath. “I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you, too,” Victor said. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Ciao Ciao: Where are you?
> 
> : My hotel room.
> 
> : Just like you asked me to be.

“What were you doing before I called?” Victor asked.

“I was working on a sketch of a tree I saw earlier.” Yuuri turned to the page with the tree on it. They put their phone on speaker. “It's still not done, though,” they said.

“I bet it looks nice.”

“Not really. It looks gross.”

“Show me?”

“I think not,” Yuuri said. "There's incriminating evidence near that sketch, and I don't want you to see it." 

“What haven’t I seen before?” Victor asked. “I’ve seen the phrases, the self-portraits, and the sketches of us. What could be so terrible that I haven’t seen?”

“Well,” Yuuri's voice was a whisper. What do they say that doesn’t incriminate themselves some more? “You don’t need to know about it.” Victor chuckled.

“You tried,” Victor said. “I’ll find out eventually.” Those words resonated within Yuuri. They’re going to have to know eventually.

“You will. In time.” Yuuri scratched their throat and closed their eyes. “In time,” they thought.

#

**(Sunday, 15 November 2015 –** **8:45pm, Bordeaux, France)**

"Oh, Celestino, is this your skater?" A woman asked. She was Khoudia's height, and her hair was short, brown, and straight. She seemed to be nice. Coach Cialdini nodded.

“Just one of them. The rest are in Detroit.”

“I see, I see,” the woman said. “And I’m presuming that Camille and Khadijah are there?” It left a weird taste in Yuuri’s mouth to hear someone refer to Adé and Khoudia like that. “How are they?”

“Khadijah and Camille are fine, too.” Coach Cialdini patted Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Will Camille be skating next season? I missed seeing her on ice.” The woman smiled. Yuuri internally rolled their eyes in disgust.

“I don’t know if Camille will be returning to skating next season. We haven’t discussed that yet.”

“Well, I hope she returns,” the woman said with a smile. “And you,” she started, “you’re Yuuri Katsuki, right?” Yuuri nodded tentatively. “Your short program was very lovely. What was the song that you used for it?”

“I skated to Yiruma’s Heart,” Yuuri said. They felt like their insides were trembling. Coach Cialdini patted their shoulder again.

“That was such a lovely song.” Yuuri nodded. “Congratulations on your win.” Yuuri nodded again. “I can’t wait to see your exhibition skate tomorrow.” Yuuri feigned a smile and remained silent.

“Alyson, how have you been? And Justine and Sebastian?” Coach Cialdini asked. He had a genuine smile on his face.

“Justine and Sebastian are fine. Justine will be at the NHK next week. And Sebastian will be at the Rostelecom Cup.”

“Good, good,” Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri was bored out of their mind. “Yuuri and Khadijah are going to be at the Rostelecom Cup, too.” Yuuri took out their phone and started to text Phichit. “But that doesn't tell me how you've been.”

> : I'm bored. Save me.
> 
> Phichit: Just draw or something.
> 
> : Can't. At the banquet. Slowly dying.
> 
> : Rest in Pieces Yuuri Katsuki

“I've been fine, Celestino,” Alyson said.

> : Ciao Ciao is talking to this coach
> 
> : At least I think she's a coach
> 
> : Idk
> 
> Phichit: Send pics

“Hey, can I have a picture of you two?” Yuuri cut in, their hands shaking. Coach Cialdini and Alyson posed for a flick, and Yuuri sent it to Phichit. “Thank you.”

> : So?
> 
> Phichit: That's Ursula’s coach.
> 
> : And Ursula is…?
> 
> Phichit: She's a junior skater.
> 
> Phichit: She also coaches Justine, Sebastian, and Parker.
> 
> : I don't know who any of those people are
> 
> Phichit: Ofc you don't.
> 
> Phichit: That's why you need to use your Instagram more.

“Yuuri, why don't you socialize with some skaters while I catch up with Alyson?” Coach Cialdini suggested. Yuuri nodded meekly and looked around the room. They spotted Georgi and Seung-gil in the corner, looking out of place. So Yuuri sat at their table.

“It's you again,” Georgi said. Yuuri nodded. “Go away.”

“I can't. My coach told me to socialize,” Yuuri said.

“Socialize somewhere else.” Yuuri looked at Seung-gil. They seemed detached from the conversation and everything else around them.

> : Yeeeeaaah, I'm just going to die tonight
> 
> : Nice lmao

#


	35. Clap Clap, Bravo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's back in Detroit.

#

**(Tuesday, 17 November 2015 – 2:10pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri and Coach Cialdini were back in Detroit. The exhibition skate went well, but they were stone tired by the time they touched down. Yuuri’s last two days were spent drawing and watching the other skaters. Yuuri was glad to be back home. When they got back to the apartment, they were greeted by all of their rink mates, a box of pizza, and a sheet cake.

“Did all of you miss class for this?” Yuuri asked as they put their bags by the door.

“Yes,” Khoudia said. “We said we had a family emergency.”

“So you’re skipping class and lying now?” Yuuri hung up their coat and took off their shoes. “What am I going to do with you kids?”

“Shut up and eat this pizza,” Adé said. They took a bite of their slice and smiled. Yuuri stayed by the door.

“I’ll eat with you on the condition that this is just as much for Khoudia as it is for me.” Khoudia made a face. “She did great at her event, and she deserves this, too.” Yuuri walked over to Khoudia and kissed her forehead. They patted her head gently, and she was grinning. “Let me put my medal away.” Phichit stopped Yuuri as they tried to walk down their hall.

“Aren’t you going to give me a kiss?” Phichit asked; Yuuri looked down at Phichit. They picked him up, spun him around, and kissed him. “Ah! I’ve missed you!” Phichit was grinning from ear to ear and snug in Yuuri’s arms.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Yuuri said.

“Gay!” Adé yelled. They got a laugh out of Khoudia and Phichit.

“I’ll let you go in our room,” Phichit said. Yuuri let go of Phichit and went into their room. They sat on their bed and breathed. They wanted to have some time to themselves before they eat pizza and cake and drop due to exhaustion. Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Victor: Just wondering if you’re home yet.
> 
> : I am.
> 
> Victor: ((smirking emoji))

Yuuri chuckled and took off their hoodie. They placed it on the back of their desk chair. Then Yuuri started to hear footsteps come towards the room. “Dad!” Adé stood in the doorway. “You haven’t given me a hug yet!”

“I know, I know. Just give me a –” Adé jumped on Yuuri, wrapping their legs around Yuuri’s waist. “I was going to say that you can just give me a few moments before you decide to jump on me. But I guess this is fine, too.”

“Spin me around,” Adé said.

“What?” Adé unwrapped their legs from around Yuuri’s waist and stood at Yuuri’s chest. Adé was about 5’4 –just an inch or two shorter than Phichit – and close to 120lbs.

“Pick me up and spin me around,” Adé insisted. “Please?” They were smiling, and Yuuri couldn’t find it in them to say ‘no’ to their son. So Yuuri picked Adé up and spun them around like they were a small child. Adé was beaming now. “Okay, now we can go back to the others.” Adé pulled Yuuri out of the room and sat back in their spot. Phichit had a place waiting for Yuuri. That spot was between him and Khoudia.

“So, how was Bordeaux?” Masabeeh asked. “Was it fancy?”

“It was okay,” Yuuri said. “I walked around a cemetery. Went to a museum. Walked in one of the parks.”

“I’m still not over how you took pictures of a cemetery and thought that I’d like them,” Khoudia said. “I mean what the actual fuck, Yuuri.” She took a bite of pizza. Phichit was taking an off-guard of Khoudia.

“The cemetery looked interesting!”

“Yuuri, you took pictures of someone’s tombstone,” Khoudia said.

“It was a nice-looking tombstone,” Yuuri said. Khoudia took another bite of her slice and looked at Yuuri as she chewed. “But did you see the statues?” Khoudia deadpanned. “I also went to other places on Sunday. Do you want to see the pictures I took?” Khoudia was silent. “I’ll send you those. Let me get my phone.” Yuuri got up and went back in the room. Yuuri forgot to pick up their phone because Adé insisted on being spun. They got their phone and came back to their spot. Yuuri sent the forty photos they took to Khoudia.

“Are these normal photos, or are they artist photos?” Khoudia asked.

“Is there a difference?” Yuuri asked. They put their phone on the coffee table and grabbed a slice of pizza.

“With you, there’s a huge difference,” Phichit said.

“Look, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t manipulate the scenery in such a way that it would become an artist photo,” Yuuri said. They took an awkward bite of pizza. Khoudia rolled her eyes. “How do I manipulate an entire building into a Dalí? You can’t do that.”

“You are such a liar right now,” Phichit said. “If you were painting–”

“ _If_!” Yuuri said. “ _If_ I was painting.”

“You would easily be able to do the building in such a way that it would be a Dalí. Also, you can do anything if you’re high enough.” Yuuri nodded in agreement. “Yuuri,” Phichit said, “you don’t understand. You can do anything if you’re high enough.” Yuuri started chuckling.

“Oh no,” Tal’ at said. “Are you guys going to start doing drugs, too?!”

“What? No!” Yuuri said. “Unless someone brought weed because then that’s a hard maybe.” Yuuri and Khoudia made eye contact. “Don’t look at me like that, Khoudia.” Adé was giggling. “Shut up, Adé.”

“Mom, do you see how they’re treating me right now?” Adé said. They were referring to Khoudia. They were the two oldest skaters at the rink, so they’ve been dubbed “Mom” and “Dad.” They don’t mind it.

“Yuuri, shut up,” Khoudia said. Yuuri rolled their eyes.

> Victor: So wyd rn?

Phichit passed Yuuri their phone. “Thank you, baby,” Yuuri said. “And, Masabeeh, Bordeaux was nice.” Masabeeh nodded. “I almost wish that I had more time to absorb it. Almost.”

> : I’m eating pizza with a few friends.
> 
> Victor: I thought you were going to go straight to bed.
> 
> : I thought so, too. This was last minute.
> 
> : But at least there’s cake.

Yuuri put their phone back down, and Phichit picked it up. Yuuri looked at Phichit as they unlocked their phone and went to their text messages. “Are you really going to do this?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes,” Phichit said. “I’m curious.”

“You could just ask me, you know.” Yuuri took another bite of pizza. “I’m right here.”

“I know you are, ma poupée,” Phichit said as he went to the top of the log. “I’m just going to read your texts now and ask later.” Yuuri shrugged and took another bite of pizza. Their brain started to alternate between the questions Phichit could be thinking up and trying to remain in the moment.

And, so far, for once, remaining in the moment was winning.

#

**(Tuesday, 17 November 2015 – 6:18pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Everyone left an hour ago. Phichit went to take Khoudia home at the same time that Adé’s partner called and started to make a scene with them. Adé was irritated by their partner’s actions, and Yuuri had to calm them down. They were good after about twenty minutes of having their head patted by Yuuri.

But now Yuuri was lying in bed, playing with their hair. They were surprised that they didn’t drop when they were eating with their rink mates.

“So, how was it?” Victor asked. Yuuri had called him after they got Adé situated.

“It was nice,” Yuuri said. They stifled their yawn. “Khadijah made a cake.”

“Was it good?” Victor asked.

“It was great.” Yuuri rolled on their side. “I’m glad she was able to make it,” Yuuri said. One day Yuuri’s going to have to explain that Khoudia’s name isn’t pronounced “Khadijah” and that she only opts for “Khadijah” when it’s easier than sitting down and explaining it.

“One day, I’d like to meet her.”

“You will,” Yuuri said. “She’s excited to meet you.” Yuuri yawned into their pillow.

“Does she know that it’s me?” Victor asked.

“She does now,” Yuuri said and closed their eyes. They hoped they wouldn’t fall asleep as they were on the phone. “I asked her to keep quiet about it. She agreed.”

“That’s good,” Victor said. “Am I going to see you tomorrow?” Yuuri yawned again.

“You should if I don’t oversleep.” Yuuri rubbed their eyes and opened them again. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Then go to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning if you want.” Yuuri yawned again. “What time do you usually wake up?” Victor asked.

“About 5:45,” Yuuri said. “Sometimes, I wake up earlier.” Victor was making an unidentifiable sound. “What?”

“And you do this every day?” Victor asked.

“Every weekday,” Yuuri said. They closed their eyes again.

“That’s honestly terrifying. Is that why you’re in class long before it’s set to begin?”

“Yes.” Victor made a garbling sound. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just in shock. I couldn’t imagine waking up at the crack of dawn like that every day.” Yuuri chuckled. “I should let you sleep now, shouldn’t I?” Yuuri nodded. “Good night, _солнышко_.”

“Good night, Victor,” Yuuri said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Yuuri ended the call. They rolled on to their stomach and placed their face on their pillow. Then their phone buzzed.

> Victor: You hung up on me ((angry emoji))
> 
> : Whoops ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> : I thought you were done.
> 
> Victor: I wasn’t
> 
> : I’m sorry. Do you want me to call you back?
> 
> Victor: No, it’s okay.

Yuuri put their phone down and started to run their fingers through their hair. “Phichit should be home soon,” they thought as they fell asleep.

#

**(Tuesday, 17 November 2015 –** **7:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri,” Yuuri heard someone say. It sounds like Phichit. “Wake up.” Phichit cleared his throat, and then there was silence. Something grazed Yuuri’s face.

“Stop,” Yuuri said. Phichit snickered. Yuuri opened their eyes and rubbed them. “Ah, Bitchit.” Phichit was sitting on Yuuri’s bed, his hands by Yuuri’s head. He was smiling. Yuuri reached up and stroked Phichit’s face.

“I’m home now.”

“I can tell,” Yuuri said. “Khoudia’s home with her family, I presume?” Phichit nodded. “How’s Mama Awa?” Mama Awa is Khoudia’s mother. She’s not usually seen not in her niqab, but she’s very lovely. She likes it when Yuuri or Phichit take time out of their day to take Khoudia home. Awa has remarked to Yuuri and Phichit that she worries about Khoudia a lot and that she’s glad that she doesn’t have to worry too much when Khoudia is with one of them.

“Mama is doing fine.” Yuuri smiled when Phichit called her “mama.”

“And Aida? Yande?”

“They are adorable as ever. Aida is still doing ballet. And Yande is just starting.” Yuuri nodded and smiled. “They told me to give you a hug.” Phichit pulled Yuuri up and into his arms. “So there. I delivered their message to you.”

“Thank you. I am glad that they sent such a dutiful messenger to me.” Phichit smiled. “Now, you said that you wanted to talk?” Phichit nodded. “Do you want to start now?”

“I want to put on my pajamas first.” Yuuri nodded. Phichit started to strip down to his underwear and put his clothes on his bed. Then he went back to the dresser, looking for pajamas to wear. Yuuri whistled. “Shush.”

“Never,” Yuuri sweetly said.

“If you’re going to look, you better be taking me out for dinner,” Phichit said.

“Isn’t it ‘if you’re going to touch me, you could at least take me out to dinner’?” Yuuri asked. “Because, if that is the case, I’ll take you out.”

“You have a boyfriend; I’m going to tell,” Phichit said as he took out a pair of pastel plaid pajama pants. Then he took out a pastel yellow t-shirt. “Speaking of your boyfriend, what are you going to tell him about us?” Phichit pulled the t-shirt over his head and stepped into his pajama pants. “He’s going to ask questions about us, and I don’t want this to end terribly for you.”

“No clue on what I’m going to tell him,” Yuuri said. They scooched over to make space for Phichit. “It hasn’t come up yet, so I haven’t thought about it.”

“You can’t keep avoiding everything, you know. Aren’t you working on not avoiding things with Luzia?”

“I know, and I am.” Phichit pulled up his pajama pants and crawled into bed next to Yuuri. Phichit turned to face Yuuri, propping his head up with his left hand. “I’m trying.”

“I don’t doubt that you are, ma poupée.” Yuuri was lying on their back, their hands behind their head. “Now, about those texts, I need to know everything that happened while you were away from me.” Yuuri smiled. “So, Victor wants to go on another date?” Yuuri nodded. “I thought you said that the first one went terribly.”

“It did, but apparently he either doesn’t care, or it didn’t go terribly in his mind,” Yuuri muttered. They closed their eyes.

“I think I’m going to trust Victor’s judgment on this. You’re an unreliable narrator.” Yuuri opened their eyes and looked up at Phichit. “And you’re sure nothing happened on your first date?” Yuuri nodded and looked at Phichit’s clavicles. “He has nice collarbones,” Yuuri thought. “Yuuri, you are such a liar.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Phichit said in his simmering ire.

“Victor told me that he loves me,” Yuuri said, changing the subject. Phichit suddenly cooled down.

“What?” He whispered.

“He said that he loves me.” Yuuri moved closer to Phichit. “I don’t know what to do.” Phichit tenderly stroked Yuuri’s face, caressing their lips with his thumb. “I didn’t know how to respond, so I hung up when he said it.” 

“Yuuri, no, you don’t do that!” Phichit said and pinched Yuuri’s cheek. “You’re supposed to say ‘I love you’ back!”

“It’s only November!”

“Yuuri, you love him. Arguably more than me.” Yuuri moved to stroke Phichit’s face.

“Are you jealous?” Yuuri asked him. “Come on, tell me.” Phichit was silent. “If you are, you don’t have to be. There’s never going to be anyone like you, and I won’t allow anyone or anything to come in between us.” Yuuri sat up and leaned in to kiss Phichit. Phichit put his hand over Yuuri’s mouth.

“Victor’s still your boyfriend.”

“I doubt that.”

“Be honest with yourself,” Phichit said. “What was that Latin word you taught me? Genuinus?” Yuuri was silent. “Be genuinus with yourself.” Phichit looked Yuuri in the eye and removed his hand from Yuuri’s mouth.

“I like Victor,” Yuuri plainly said. “I like him a lot, even though it’s only November.” Phichit nodded. “I don’t want to refer to him as my boyfriend because it’s November, but I think that’s what he thinks we are.” Phichit nodded again. “Are you going to proceed to give me bad advice?”

“No, I was just going to sit and listen.”

“Were you really, mon lapin?” Yuuri asked and placed their head on their pillow again. Phichit put his head next to Yuuri on their pillow. Phichit stroked Yuuri’s hand with his index finger and smiled.

“Well, maybe just a little bit, lapinou,” Phichit said. He chuckled. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“Can we wrap up the conversation now?”

“Yes, because you’re going to nod out on me,” Phichit said. “Just be honest with yourself and stop avoiding things.” Yuuri closed their eyes. “That would be enough.” Phichit kissed Yuuri’s forehead and snuggled up to him.

“This is enough.”

#


	36. Eulogy of the Spring’s Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri go on their second date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this yesterday, but I got caught up in reading my own fanfic and I was like "yo that seriously happened?? damn I am such a good writer."
> 
> So here we are.

#

**(Wednesday, 18 November 2015 –** **7:58am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

It’s Wednesday. Yuuri was at their desk, looking up at the ceiling. Despite being exhausted yesterday and sleeping, they were exhausted today, too. Yuuri got an iced coffee this morning, thinking that they would be lucky enough to be able to stay awake with it. Yuuri was journaling and drinking their coffee. “I should’ve gotten more sugar in this,” Yuuri thought, “It’s obvious that two sugars weren’t enough.” Yuuri looked down at their sketchbook; they decided that this was done writing for now. They’re slowly learning how to be genuinus with their journal. They put their journal away and took out their sketchbook. “Should I start a new sketch?” They asked themselves. "I'll start a new sketch," they told themselves.

Well, at least they were going to until Victor came in. In a way, it was a good thing Victor came in. It would have saved Yuuri from having to come up with something to draw. “Yuuri!” Victor dashed into the room and stopped running when he got to Yuuri. He squatted at Yuuri’s feet. “I’ve missed you.” Yuuri smiled.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Yuuri said. Victor sprung to his feet and bent down to kiss Yuuri. “We’re in public.”

“I don’t see anyone else in the room.” Victor smirked.

“Stop,” Yuuri whined. “We are in a place of education.” Victor rolled his eyes and took his seat. He had a dreamy look on his face. “You’re giving me bedroom eyes again.”

“My bedroom is exactly where I want you,” Victor said.

“Stop,” Yuuri whined again. “We’re in public.” Yuuri felt their face get warm, and they were sure that they were blushing now. “And, before you say it, I know that it’s just us in this room, but there will be other people in this room soon.” Victor moved his desk closer to Yuuri’s and reached out to stroke their face. His thumb stroked Yuuri’s bottom lip tenderly. “We’re not doing this right now.”

“Fine. We’ll do it on our date,” Victor said with a smile. Yuuri started to chuckle. Then they began to look at their pants and mentally deconstruct all the different flowers on them. “Hey, Yuuri.” His voice sounded more serious.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you a lot,” Victor said. “I just wanted to say that.”

“It was only a few days,” Yuuri said. “Surely you couldn’t have missed me too much.”

“But I did.” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand and kissed their knuckles. “Can you at least let me know when you’re going to leave? I’d like to see you before you go.”

“If you saw me before I left to go anywhere, I’d never leave,” Yuuri pointed out. They started to play with the spirals that bound their sketchbook. “I feel like you wouldn’t let me leave once you got a hold of me,” Victor smirked. “And, as much as I enjoy being your captive, I do have things that I must do.”

“What exactly do you do?” Victor asked. “I’d like to join you in something one day.” Yuuri stopped playing with the spirals of their sketchbook. “I want to be included in the things that are important to you.” Yuuri felt their chest get tight. 

“I highly doubt that you’d like anything I do.”

“You don’t know that.” Yuuri was silent. “Can I watch you do digital art?” Yuuri cracked a smile and took a sip of their coffee.

“I don’t feel like doing any digital art right now,” Yuuri said. “But maybe you can watch me draw something in my sketchbook. I don’t know. But I do know that it’s going to be kind of boring.”

"It won't be boring," Victor said, sure of himself. "Plus, I'd be with you, and there's never a dull moment with you." Yuuri put their sketchbook back in their bag and took out their binder. Then they took another sip of their iced coffee. They were going to soldier on despite the two sugars.

“Victor, can you fix your desk?” Victor looked down at their desk, bemused by what he could “fix” on it. “Like, just…” Yuuri got up and straightened Victor’s desk. “There we go.”

“Was that bothering you?” Victor asked.

"Yes." Victor smiled. The door opened, and three students came in. Victor bit his lip and stared at Yuuri. There was a glint in his eyes; he’s planning something. “Victor, what are you doing?”

“Nothing yet.” Yuuri looked at Victor. Victor reached into his pocket and took out two notes. He put them in the space between Yuuri’s palm and their desk. Then he made the desk crooked again.

“Victor, wh–” Yuuri said. Victor smirked and reached out towards Yuuri. Victor’s fingers made their way into Yuuri’s hair. He took a lock of hair and wrapped it around his finger; then he did the same to another plug. “What are you doing?”

“What are _you_ doing?” Victor rhetorically asked.

“I’m trying to figure out what you’re doing.” Victor took a plug of hair and started to brush it against Yuuri’s face. Yuuri rolled their eyes. “What do you want?” Victor smirked.

“Let me watch you draw.” Victor was still brushing Yuuri’s hair against their face. Yuuri deadpanned.

“I said that you could, but I wasn’t going to do it any time soon.” Then it hit Yuuri. He wants to watch them do it soon. “But, I suppose,” Yuuri started. Victor was grinning. “I suppose that I could make myself do some digital art.” Victor removed his fingers from Yuuri’s hair and smiled. He seemed satisfied. “What do you want me to draw? When do you want to watch me draw?”

“When I come back,” Victor said. “And I don’t know. What do you usually draw?”

“I draw what my heart wants,” Yuuri responded.

“And what does your heart want?” Yuuri was silent. They know what they want now. They’re just unable to tell him. “I’m never going to get an answer to that, am I?” Victor asked.

“Possibly not.” Yuuri bit their lip. “I’m sorry,” Yuuri said.

“It’s fine.” Victor smiled; his smile is infectious. That made Yuuri smile a bit, but it was bittersweet. They know what they want, but they didn’t try to convey to Victor what it is that they want. “Also, read the notes. Right now.” Yuuri picked the second note that Victor gave them. They opened it and looked.

“I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire.” Victor nodded. “I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.” Yuuri folded the note. They felt their heartbeat quicken as they read it. “I'm going to need you to explain why you said that you love me on Friday.”

“Or I could explain it now.”

“Do you have enough time to explain it now?” Yuuri asked.

“It's 8:20,” Victor said. “Surely it won't take me ten minutes for me to explain why said it.” Victor straightened his desk and leaned towards Yuuri. “I–” Victor was cut off when Professor Heiner came in. Victor looked at his desk and then at her. He seemed to freeze.

“Are you going to tell me now?” Yuuri asked.

“I think I’ll wait until we’re alone,” Victor said. “After class, maybe?” Yuuri shrugged. “I’ll tell you after class.” Yuuri nodded and looked at Victor. He had a graceful smile on his face. Victor took out his phone and took a flick of Yuuri.

“Did you take a picture of me?”

“I might’ve,” Victor said. Yuuri sucked their teeth. “What?”

“Delete that. I don’t look good.”

“You look great,” Victor said. He went to the photo and showed it to Yuuri. “See?” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “But, then again, you always look great.” Victor looked at them and smirked. This was going to be an extended, frustrating period if Victor is going to keep looking at them like that.

#

**(Wednesday, 18 November 2015 – 11:30am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Class is over, and Yuuri was able to get through it despite their insides feeling like they're on fire. Yuuri was doodling in their art history notes about the art of the Renaissance and Reformation. They mainly outlined Bramante’s design of Saint Peter’s Basilica and Grünewald making the Isenheim Altarpiece over their notes. On the other side of the page were the requirements for their midterm paper. They had to pick an artist that was a High Renaissance, Reformation, or Baroque artist and write a seven-page paper about their life and their art. Yuuri had no clue how they were going to write an essay about an artist they probably don’t care about, but they’re going to have to do it.

“Yuuri, did you get the due date?” They nodded and gave Victor their notes. “Where is it?”

“Top of the last page.”

“And that page is?”

“The page with the Isenheim Altarpiece.” Victor nodded and turned the page. “Can you read it?” Victor nodded again. He quickly wrote down the date and gave Yuuri their binder back. “Did you get everything else?”

“I did.” Yuuri put their binder back in their bag and stood. Professor Heiner was still there. Victor was still packing.

“Mr. Katsuki,” Professor Heiner said. Yuuri was taken aback by her. “Why did you not submit your assignment?”

"I was in Europe, and I lost track of time," Yuuri said. They weren’t lying; they genuinely did lose track of time. You can quickly lose time when you're forcing yourself to write, and you're busy trying to focus when you feel your heart in your throat. "Sorry." 

“Take care that you don’t do this again.” Yuuri nodded. Professor Heiner left the room. Yuuri waited for Victor to finish packing before they held out their hand. Victor took it gladly, and they walked to the back of the library. Yuuri leaned on Victor and closed their eyes.

“How did your assignment turn out?” Victor asked, referring to the assignment Yuuri struggled to do in Bordeaux.

“I didn’t do it.” Victor nodded and leaned his head on Yuuri’s. “And I have no clue what I’m going to do for the midterm paper.” Victor was silent.

“Are you stuck regarding artists?” Yuuri nodded. “Michelangelo.” Yuuri opened their eyes. “I’ll do da Vinci if you do Michelangelo.”

“I feel like everyone is going to do either da Vinci or Michelangelo,” Yuuri muttered. “I have to go the extra mile and outshine everyone.” Victor made a “tsk tsk” sound.

“Well, seven pages is just the minimum. The maximum is ten. Surely you can outshine someone just by doing the minimum.”

“Nope, I have to do the maximum,” Yuuri said. Victor looked down at Yuuri. “So you’ll do da Vinci if I do Michelangelo?”

“I will.” Yuuri took out their phone and started to read about him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to familiarize myself with Michelangelo. Then I’m going to carry on with my day as I think about it. Then I’ll get to work.”

“Is this the artistic process?” Victor asked.

“Just part of it. The artistic process can get a lot weirder.” Yuuri stopped scrolling and looked at the Madonna and Child and Bacchus. “Yes, I can do this,” Yuuri said to themselves. “Victor, get ready to familiarize yourself with da Vinci because I’m familiarizing myself with Michelangelo.” Yuuri looked at Michelangelo’s Risen Christ. “Look,” Yuuri said to Victor, showing him the sculpture.

“It’s nice,” Victor remarked. There was silence. “You don’t have to do Michelangelo, you know.”

"I know. But I already have ideas, so I'm going to." Yuuri closed their eyes and put their phone in their pocket. “Do you know a lot about da Vinci?”

“I only know the basics,” Victor murmured. “I'm going to take this paper as an opportunity to deepen my relationship with him.” Yuuri nodded. “We should get going.” Yuuri nodded and buttoned their coat. Victor put on his hat and scarf and zipped up his coat. “Let’s go!” He held out his hand for Yuuri, and Yuuri took it. They left the campus hand in hand and walked to the corner.

“I've missed this,” Yuuri muttered.

“Have you?”

“I have,” Yuuri said. “It was so… different being in Bordeaux. I missed Detroit so much.” Yuuri looked down at their feet. “I missed you a lot, too.” Victor squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “What was that for?”

“No reason,” Victor said. “Was your roommate happy to see you?”

“Overjoyed.” Yuuri looked ahead of themselves. “He wasn’t alone, though. Khadijah was there with him.”

“I mean, you two are roommates,” Victor pointed out. “Khadijah might have been there, but that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t still missing you.” Yuuri shrugged. They stopped at a light. “How are your other friends?”

“Adé, Masa, and Tal’at are fine.” Victor nodded. “It was nice to see them.”

“Who’s Adé?”

“Camille. They said that we can call them Adé now.” Victor nodded. “Adé was glad to see me."

“Does Adé like figure skating?” Yuuri nodded and smiled. They liked the way that Victor said Adé’s name. “Question: If you and your friends like figure skating so much, why didn’t you all go to the Bompard together? Why did you go alone?” The light changed.

“Masa’s parents wouldn’t let them go. Tal’at simply didn’t want to go. Adé’s partner wouldn’t let –”

“Let?!” Victor stopped in his tracks, recoiling in shock. Yuuri nodded. “That’s genuinely terrifying. Continue.” Victor and Yuuri started to walk again.

“As I was saying, Adé’s partner wouldn’t let them go. Khoudia couldn’t afford to go because she keeps missing her Friday class.” Yuuri took a breath. “And I told Phichit that he couldn't go." Yuuri finished.

"You told your roommate that he couldn't go?" Yuuri nodded. “That’s almost as bad as Adé’s partner saying that they can’t go to the Bompard.”

“Let me just say that Phichit could have come, but he has midterms, so I told him that he couldn't come." Victor nodded. "He would have if I didn't tell him that he couldn't."

“But then there’s you,” Victor said. “You don’t like missing class. But you missed several days of classes to go to an event.” Yuuri looked down at their Docs and focused on the toe cap. “That doesn’t make any sense. You could’ve watched it at home.” Yuuri stayed silent. “I’m not getting much of an answer about that, aren’t I?”

“Not really,” Yuuri said. "I can't explain my reasoning for the why very well, and I don't think you'd understand what I'm trying to convey."

“You need to give me more credit, Yura," Victor said. "I understand a lot of things." They stopped at another light. "I know I seem like an airhead, but I'm not. I can be very diligent when I want to be."

“I believe you,” Yuuri said.

“Do you? Do you really?” Victor asked as they started to walk again.

“I do.” Yuuri kicked a bottle cap. “I’m not always capable of conveying thoughts and emotions very well, but trust me when I say that I believe you.”

“I’ve noticed that you seem to have difficulty when it comes to expressing things,” Victor remarked. Yuuri kept their eyes on the toe caps. “And eye contact. And other things. It makes me wonder.” Yuuri felt a lump form in their throat. “I wonder a lot of things about you.”

Yuuri was going to regret asking this, but they went ahead anyway. “Like what?”

“Why are you the way that you are? Why is he so enigmatic? Why doesn’t he look me in the eye? Will he start crying if I touch him? Is he capable of reciprocating intense emotions?” He bit his lip. “By the way, I have recently learned that you are capable of reciprocating them.” Victor laughed. Yuuri felt their face warm despite the biting air.

“Where did you get the idea that I can’t reciprocate feelings?” Yuuri asked.

“You seem out of touch with them,” Victor said. “I had wondered if you are simply unable to feel them or if you choose not to feel them.”

"It's a little bit of both with an overarching theme of having difficulty with identifying them," Yuuri spoke despite the lump in their throat. "I experience the sensations, and I am unable to accurately name them at the moment, so I ignore them until I'm able to unpack them and give them the attention they deserve." 

“And you say that you’re bad at explaining things,” Victor said, tongue in cheek. They turned the corner. “That was a very succinct explanation.”

“Just wait. I’m going to be an incomprehensible mess again.” Yuuri chuckled. They tugged at his arm to get him to stop walking. “We’re here.” They stepped inside.

The tea house was calm, and the shades of juniper and pine went well with the ambient music they were playing. Victor was smiling wildly and fidgeting with his napkin. The napkins were carob brown, and the tea house had fake Easter lilies as centerpieces. A barista took Yuuri and Victor to where the seats were. Yuuri took a photo of the centerpiece and put their phone on the table. They sat.

“Do you have a favorite type of tea?”

“I usually like green teas, but I think I’ll try an herbal tea today,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “You?”

"Last time I came here, I had matcha, and it was underwhelming. I think I'll try something different today," Yuuri said. “I might have the Caribe tea.”

“I think I’ll get lavender,” Victor said. “Do you like macarons?” Yuuri nodded. “Have you had the Earl Grey one?” Yuuri nodded. “Is it good?”

“It’s one of my favorites,” Yuuri said.

“What’s your other favorite?”

“Rose.”

“Are those good?”

“They’re good. They just have a very overpowering scent. And taste. And color.” Yuuri turned the page of their menu. “But they’re good. I like them.”

“I’m going to get a tiny cake,” Victor said. “They look good.” Victor zipped his hoodie down. Yuuri was staring at his shirt. It had shades of purple, blue, and red. Yuuri liked it. A lot. “Yes?”

“Your shirt,” Yuuri said. “I like it. What art movement is this?”

“Futurism. I think this is a Severini painting.” Victor sounded uncertain. Yuuri nodded and kept looking. “Do you like it?”

“Never take it off.” Yuuri bit their tongue after they said that. “I mean, take it off.” They sharply inhaled. “But don’t.” They pushed themselves away from the table. “I like your shirt. I’m going to use the bathroom.” Yuuri got up and went to hide in the bathroom. They wanted to give themselves space to breathe, and so they didn’t say anything else to Victor. “He does have a nice shirt,” Yuuri mused. “What was I even trying to say to him?” Yuuri asked themselves. "Maybe it's better if I just don't say anything."

Victor: I miss you already.

Victor: Come out.

: I just got in here.

Victor: Still. Come out.

: Fine. I’ll come out.

Yuuri gave themselves two more minutes before they came out. They sat back down in silence. Victor was smiling. “You’ve returned to me.” Yuuri nodded. “I’m glad.”

“Did someone come out to take our order?” Victor shook his head. “Did you decide on what tiny cake you want?”

“Red velvet,” Victor said. “I didn’t know what the other two were.” Yuuri nodded and kept their eyes downward. Victor smiled. “Yuuri,” Victor said.

“Hm?”

“Look at me.” Yuuri kept their eyes down. “Yuuri.”

“Yes?”

“I said look at me.” Victor reached out and held their hand. Yuuri took a deep breath and looked at Victor. They didn’t look him square in the eyes, but they looked at their nose instead. They took a brief break to look Victor in the eyes. They were soft.

“Victor,” Yuuri said.

“Yes?”

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes again.” Victor took a deep breath and smiled. “It gets weirder and weirder every time you do it,” Yuuri pointed out.

“And you’re not giving me bedroom eyes?” He asked. Yuuri squinted. They understood what Victor's question was asking but didn't understand the implications of it. Had Victor been interpreting how they look at him as "bedroom eyes"? 

"Is that how you've been interpreting the way I look at you? As bedroom eyes?”

“Well,” Victor said, “I would say ‘dreamy eyes,’ but…” He shifted in his seat. “What I call it doesn’t matter. Just look at me.” Yuuri was beyond confused. “You have such lovely eyes.”

“Are you going to pluck them out?”

“Why would I do that?” Victor asked. Yuuri stayed silent. “Anyway, what was that thing you wanted to discuss with me?” The lump in Yuuri’s throat started to hurt. They didn’t expect that conversation to happen now.

“I forgot.” Yuuri’s voice was low. “But, before I forget,” they said, reaching into their bag. “Thus Spoke Zarathustra.” They put the book on the table, and Victor picked it up. "I hope you enjoy it as much as I did."

“I will. Thank you,” Victor said. He put it in his bag. “Also, I’m sorry for Georgi being a reticent piss baby. I thought that he’d – I don’t know – like to talk to someone. He’s not usually like that.”

“I actually ran into him on Sunday,” Yuuri said.

“And? How’d that go?”

“He was still being… standoffish, I guess you could call it,” Yuuri said. They looked at their hands. “Also, I don’t think Georgi was reticent. He was very vocal in not wanting to speak to me." Victor shrugged. "But I did run into two of Phichit’s friends.” A barista came out with the tea and Victor’s tiny cake. “They were happy to see me. Like, extremely happy to see me.”

“Have you met them before?”

“No,” Yuuri said. "I think they knew more about me than I knew about them. It's kind of scary." Yuuri touched the teapot to try to pour tea, and they winced.

“What happened?”

“The teapot is hot,” Yuuri said. Victor laughed. “This is no laughing matter.”

“It kind of is.” Victor was grinning. “You didn’t expect it to be hot?”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Yuuri said. “But yeah, it’s kind of scary. I don’t have any idea of what Phichit told them about me, and I don’t know how to act.”

“Easy: Act like yourself,” Victor suggested. Yuuri looked at Victor and blinked. “The you that you are is the best kind of you. Who wouldn’t like that?”

“You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen me at my messiest.” And this is true. While Victor has seen Yuuri while they were hallucinating, he hadn't seen him when they were depressed. Or manic. Or in the middle of a meltdown. Or engaging in a creative binge. He hasn’t seen those sides of Yuuri at all. Which is why it’s baffling that Victor said that he loves him. Yuuri sighed and finally poured their tea into the cup. Victor had already done that; right now, he was eating his tiny cake. 

"Give me a chance, and I can get accustomed with your messiest."

“That might not be a good idea.”

“Why not?” Yuuri was silent. “I’m not going to get an answer, aren’t I?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Have more faith in me. I can be perceptive.” Yuuri stayed silent. “Do you want a bite of my cake?” Victor offered them a forkful, and Yuuri ate. “And you’re sure you don’t remember what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Not a clue,” Yuuri said, biting their lip. They felt terrible for lying to him, but they didn’t know what they were going to say. “Is there something you want to talk about?” Yuuri took a sip of their tea.

“Yes, actually,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded and took another sip of tea. “I don’t want to freak you out, but what are we?” Yuuri stopped sipping and looked down at their cup. They put it down gently and kept their gaze down. “I freaked you out, didn’t I?” Victor asked.

“No. I’m not freaked out,” Yuuri said. They reached into their bookbag and took out their sketchbook. “Hold on.” Yuuri woke up their phone and went to the notes app. They had the perfect poem for this: Soneto 64 by Pablo Neruda. Yuuri wrote the sonnet on the blank page of the sketchbook and wrote “I want you” at the bottom of the sonnet. They tore it out, folded it, and passed it to Victor. Yuuri put their sketchbook back in their bookbag and resumed drinking their tea. “You should probably read that now.” Victor did as Yuuri asked and opened the note. They read the note carefully, rereading the line Yuuri wrote. “I usually approach situations like this with more art and half-assed finesse to make it more tolerable for me, but this is all I have right now. Plus, you like Neruda, and I’ve been coming to appreciate him.” Yuuri took another sip of tea.

“Do we have to go to the bookstore today?”

“Not really. Why?”

“I’m going to take you home and give you all the love bites.” Yuuri’s face felt hot.

“Stop, Victor, we’re in public,” Yuuri’s voice was a whine. “There is a family right next to us.” Victor looked over at the family – a mother, grandmother, and the preadolescent offspring. They were trying not to gawk, but the grandmother was staring at them, disapproving.

“They’ll be fine.” Yuuri laughed. “Nothing they can’t get used to.” Yuuri laughed and took a sip of tea.

“What about you?” Yuuri asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Victor asked. Yuuri took a sip of tea. They looked over at Victor’s teacup; they barely touched it. Then Victor took a large sip of tea. Yuuri stayed silent.

“Can you explain why you said ‘I love you’?” Yuuri asked. They poured themselves another cup of tea.

"It felt right," Victor said. "I didn't know when I could exactly tell you, so I went for it right there." Victor took a sip of his tea. "I don't regret it, though. I love you." Victor smiled and held Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri was silent. “Did I freak you out again?”

“No,” Yuuri said. There was a pause. “It’s November.”

“I know.”

“No, Victor, it’s November,” Yuuri said.

“I’m afraid the meaning of what you’re trying to convey is lost on me,” Victor said and took another large sip of tea. “What are you trying to say?”

“Isn’t it too soon to be at it with the declarations of love?” Victor shrugged. “I’ve only known you for about two months.”

Victor shrugged again. "I don't know. I felt certain of it, so I went for it." He finally took a bite of his Earl Gray macaron. “Is it wrong?”

“No, no, it’s not wrong.” Yuuri looked down at their tea. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to it.” They took a deep breath. “You make it hard to breathe sometimes.”

“Do I?” Yuuri nodded. “I’m glad that I take your breath away.” Victor poured himself another cup of tea. “You make my headspace wild.”

“I’m glad that that’s all me.” Victor smirked.

“I want you to take me home, b–”

“Victor, there is a literal family right next to us.” Yuuri glanced over at the family, focusing on the grandmother and her penetrating gaze. The mother seemed to ignore it, but the child seemed to be in a state of amazement. “Just don't.” Yuuri picked up their phone and sent Victor a text.

> : I am trying to save us from the ranting of an old person
> 
> : Chill.

Victor took his phone out of his pocket and looked at it.

> Victor: Must I chill?
> 
> : That would be nice.

“Fine. Because you asked,” Victor said. “Hold on.” Victor took a flick of Yuuri as they took a sip of tea. “My baby.” They smiled. Yuuri put down their teacup and covered their face. “Are you okay?”

“Aah!” Yuuri said into their hands. They removed their hands from their face and smiled.

“I love your smile,” Victor said. “I hope it never fades.” Yuuri smiled harder. Victor took a sip of tea and took another flick of Yuuri. “Absolute perfection.” Yuuri smiled harder as they took another sip of tea. They interlaced their fingers again, all smiley and giggly, and Yuuri took a picture of their hands. This date, in Yuuri’s mind, is going extremely well.

#

**(Wednesday, 18 November 2015 –** **4:32pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Phichit was nose deep in his textbooks when Yuuri came home. “You’re late,” he said, not looking up at the door.

“I know.” Yuuri took off their coat and shoes. They put their hat and scarf in the sleeve of their coat and sat down next to Phichit. They hoped that their hoodie would mask the love bites on their neck. Victor wasn’t playing when they talked about giving him a bunch of love bites. “I’m sorry. How’s studying going?”

“It’s so boring,” Phichit said. "I don't understand anything I'm reading. Or I don't care about what I'm reading." Yuuri snickered. “I’m going to fail.”

“No, you won’t,” Yuuri said. “I'll help you study.”

“If you help me study, nothing is going to get done.” Phichit looked up from his textbook. “Plus, you need to study, too,” Phichit said. “Why are you still in your clothes? Go change.” Yuuri stayed in their spot. “Yuuri, go change.” Yuuri gave in and went to change into their pastel yellow pajamas. They prayed that the collar would cover their love bites. They came back into the living room with their laptop and started to read about Michelangelo. So far, they had an idea to start a painting, but they would have to paint while laying horizontally. Then, in true Michelangelo fashion, they would have to sculpt a biblical figure; however, Yuuri wasn't familiar with the Bible, so they considered the possibility of sculpting Hokusai or Utamaro. Then they would have to write poetry about handsome men and how their bodies are works of art. It was a lot to do within a week, but Yuuri could do it if they drank enough Red Bull.

“I can do this,” Yuuri said to themselves.

“Do what?”

“The art history midterm paper.”

“Oh yeah, I haven’t even thought about that,” Phichit said. “Did you figure out who you’re going to write about?”

“Michelangelo.” Phichit looked up from his textbook. He was stunned to hear that Yuuri has an idea and that they’re doing someone who isn’t Yuuri’s style. “Do you know who you’re going to write about?”

“Either Rembrandt or Caravaggio.” Phichit returned to his textbook. “I’m presuming that when you said ‘I can do this’ that you were thinking about how you’re going to immerse yourself in Michelangelo’s essence.” Yuuri nodded. “What ideas do you have?”

“Okay, so, first, I would paint horizontally,” Yuuri said. Phichit nodded. “Then, I would sculpt Hokusai or Utamaro.” Yuuri opened a Word document. "Then, I would write poetry about good-looking men." Phichit cackled. “What? What’s so funny?”

"We both know the handsome man you'll be writing about." Yuuri rolled their eyes. "Speaking of handsome men… Yuuri, lapinou,” he said.

“Yes, mon canard?” Yuuri replied, not taking their eyes off of the screen.

“What's on your neck?” Phichit asked. He moved closer to examine Yuuri's neck. “Take off your shirt.” Yuuri complied and took off their shirt. Phichit was taken aback. “Explain. Now.”

“Victor… he really missed me.” Yuuri yawned and looked at their pajama shirt. “A lot. I thought he was joking when he said that he was going to do that, but he wasn’t.” Yuuri and Phichit remained silent.

Then Phichit opened his mouth. “I'm going to shave your head.”

“I figured that,” Yuuri said. They stretched.

“Sleep with one eye open.”

“Will do,” Yuuri said. They didn’t have plans to sleep tonight anyway. They wanted to start working on a painting. “I’m going to go shower.” Phichit nodded and looked at Yuuri as they got up. Yuuri could use that shower right now. 

#

**(Wednesday, 18 November 2015 –** **5:25pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri started their essay after their shower. Phichit had stopped paying attention to his books and was looking at Yuuri. “Okay, explain,” Phichit said. Yuuri was typing away at the introductory paragraph as they read Pietà. “Yuuri!”

“What?”

“Explain,” Phichit repeated. He was fishing for information. “How did this happen? I need details!”

“Okay, so you know how we had another date, right?”

“That was today?” Phichit asked. He didn’t wait for a response; instead, he said, “Doesn’t sound right, but continue.”

"We went to the tea house after art history, and we had tea," Yuuri said. Phichit nodded. “We talked, got stares from this old woman who wasn’t comfortable with our presence, and we talked.” Phichit nodded again. “Victor asked if we needed to go to the bookstore, and I told him that we didn’t have to because I had already given him my copy of Thus Spoke Zarathustra. So he said that he wants to take me back to his place. After we finished having tea, we went back to his place.”

“What prompted him to ask if it was necessary to go to the bookstore?” Phichit asked.

"Earlier in the day, he asked me what my heart wanted, and I told him that I wanted him. He was so overcome with his desire for me that he decided to forego the second part of our date because he wanted to mess around."

“And you…” Phichit steepled his hands and looked at them. “You two messed around.”

“It was less of messing around and more of, well, this and that,” Yuuri said. Phichit was silent.

“Are you going to continue seeing him?”

“I am,” Yuuri said. They took a deep breath and put their head in their hands. "His existence seeps into everything I do, and I need him."

“I know,” Phichit said. “I approve. Just make sure that you don’t sabotage it somehow.” Yuuri nodded. “I’m being serious. You tend to retreat into yourself when overwhelmed. I’m used to it, but Victor isn’t. He might interpret that as you being uninterested in him.”

"I told him that he wouldn't like me when I'm messy, but he said that he could take it," Yuuri said and shrugged. “I doubt it, though. It’s too much for even _me_ to deal with.”

“He’s going to be exposed to the things you've been trying to keep from him _eventually_.” Phichit leaned on the arm of the chair and put his feet on Yuuri’s lap. “Speaking of exposure, have you told him yet?”

“About what?” Phichit flicked Yuuri’s cheek. “Ah!”

“Your skating career, you numpty,” Phichit said. Yuuri shook their head. “Why?” He whined. “If Khoudia finds out she’s going to lecture you, which means that she’s also going to lecture _me_. And I don’t want to be lectured. Not again.”

“I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to tell him,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri, this advice is going to be easier said than done, but I’m going to need you to keep an open mind here.”

“Okay.”

“Fucking tell him,” Phichit said. Yuuri looked at Phichit; his mouth was pressed in a line. “You can’t keep avoiding this.”

“I know,” Yuuri said, moving their laptop to a spot on Phichit’s feet. “How’s studying going?” Yuuri asked. They want to stop this conversation as soon as possible.

"Well, I have no clue what moles are, and I don't understand the formula for it at all," Phichit said. “And I don’t care about American history at all.”

“And your religions course?”

“I have radically accepted that I’m going to fail.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “I’m not even going to bother studying for that anymore.” Yuuri tut-tutted, and Phichit looked over his paper. He’s three pages in.

“You don’t need to study for American History,” Yuuri said. “Just listen to the Hamilton soundtrack.” Phichit laughed furiously. “Aren’t you still on the American Revolution?”

“And the Articles of Confederation and the Constitution,” Phichit added.

“Just listen to the Hamilton soundtrack,” Yuuri said.

“And what do I do about my chemistry class?”

“Khan Academy.”

“And religion?”

“The Great Courses Plus, iTunes U, and Simple Wikipedia,” Yuuri said. They didn’t even blink at what they said. They just continued to write their essay. “You can use my Great Courses Plus account.” Yuuri stopped typing. “Also, you can use The Great Courses to learn about the Founding Fathers. I highly doubt your exam will have questions directly relating to the relationship between Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens, but it might help to know about it.”

“Yuuri, you are a lifesaver!" Phichit removed his feet from Yuuri’s lap and threw his arms around Yuuri’s neck. He kissed their face all over and clung to them. “Thank you, baby!” Yuuri placed their laptop on the free space on the sofa and wrapped their arm around Phichit’s waist.

“It’s no problem,” Yuuri said. Phichit pulled himself off of Yuuri and partially sat on Yuuri’s lap. “I’d get to work on studying, though. Like, right now.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, lapinou,” Yuuri said. Phichit slunk out of Yuuri’s lap and went to get his laptop. Yuuri reached for their laptop and resumed writing. “Phichit, do I have a blank canvas in the closet?” Yuuri shouted.

“Yeah, why?”

“I need to paint,” Yuuri replied. Phichit came back to the living room, laptop in hand, to look at Yuuri. “It’s for the art history midterm.”

“It’s for art history. We don’t draw in that class.”

“I know, but I need to paint.”

“Is this part of immersing yourself into Michelangelo’s essence?” Yuuri nodded. “Yuuri, you don’t need to paint to write a midterm paper about Michelangelo.” Phichit bit his lip. “Wait, didn’t you mention needing to sculpt, too?!” Yuuri nodded again. “You are not sculpting in this house.”

“Even if I sculpt Hokusai?”

“Even if,” Phichit said. He walked over and placed his laptop on the sofa. "Plus, you don't know how to sculpt, and the marble wouldn't fit through the door."

“But I can learn how to sculpt,” Yuuri said. Phichit looked at Yuuri, deadpan.

“You’re not going to learn how to sculpt.” Phichit sat down and opened his laptop. “And you’re not going to bring a hunk of marble in this house.” Yuuri shrugged. “How were you going to paint?” Phichit asked.

“I was going to suspend the canvas from the ceiling–”

“Nope!” Phichit said. “You’re not doing that either. Not in my house. Paint normally or not at all.” Yuuri looked at Phichit and sucked their teeth. “And Yuuri, when I say ‘paint normally,’ I mean ‘paint normally.’ So no drugs and no preparation ritual.”

“The ‘no drugs’ part I’m okay with, but no preparation ritual? How am I supposed to do that?” Yuuri has an elaborate preparation ritual for when they would commence a painting. The last time they painted, they let Phichit join in on the ritual. He was not a fan.

“I don’t know. Figure it out,” Phichit said.

“Phichit, it’s kind of important for me to engage in my ritual before I paint,” Yuuri said as they put their laptop on the coffee table. “It sets the mood–”

“For the painting and for myself, I know. I get it,” Phichit said.

“So, you’ll let me do my ritual then?” Yuuri asked. Phichit shook his head. Yuuri looked back at their essay and saved it. “Figures.”

#

**(Wednesday, 18 November 2015 – 11:44pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri,” Phichit said as he climbed in bed next to them. Yuuri scooched over and threw the comfort over their bodies. “Do you want to go to Supernova on Saturday?”

“We promised Khoudia that we’d go, didn’t we?” Yuuri asked. Phichit nodded. “So we’ll go.” Phichit propped himself up and looked at Yuuri. He paid particular attention to Yuuri’s neck. “What?”

“I can’t believe that this is happening,” Phichit said. Yuuri yawned and wiped their eyes again. "You have a boyfriend, and you're serious about it." Yuuri remained silent. “You’re not even going to fight me when I call Victor your boyfriend now, aren’t you?” Yuuri shook their head.

“I don’t know what exactly we are, but I guess we’re something,” Yuuri said. They rolled on their side to face Phichit. "I had asked him what he wanted, and he said, ‘Isn't it obvious?' I don't understand what he meant by that." Yuuri yawned. “But I know that he wants something.”

“He wants you, silly,” Phichit said. He laid down and cuddled up to Yuuri. “He’s your boyfriend. Get used to it.” Yuuri shrugged.

“I guess he’s my boyfriend now.” Phichit nodded. “Imagine if we interpreted all of this all wrong and Victor’s like ‘I just wanted a friendship. I’m not gay.’”

“Well, technically speaking, you’re not exactly gay either,” Phichit pointed out. Yuuri is a raging demi-pansexual. "But I don't think we're interpreting any of this wrong. He's been pretty hot for you since you've met. You don't relentlessly pursue someone your sex for two months and not be at least some shade of gay. And he asked you on two dates. And you're calling them dates. Plus, there's all of this penetration going around, and people don't usually penetrate their friends.” Phichit closed his eyes. “I think we’re right about this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Phichit said, yawning like a kitten. “My Yuuri has a boyfriend.”

“I do. I think.”

“You do.” Phichit yawned again. “Yuuri has a boyfriend,” he sweetly babbled. “We should all go out to dinner one day. I want to get acquainted with him.”

"I haven't even gone on my third date with him, and you want to sit down and eat with him," Yuuri commented. “You move fast.”

“You two move fast.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and closed them. “Are you going to sleep now?” Yuuri nodded. “Okay, I’ll try to be quiet and keep my phone dim.” Phichit kissed Yuuri’s nose. “Sleep well, ma poupée,” he said.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want egg-free challah and macarons right now.


	37. Supernova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's in Nagano for the NHK event and Yuuri's at a gay bar.

#

**(Saturday, 21 November 2015 –** **7:14pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri has been utilizing all means of art that they are capable of to deal with their loneliness. Sure, Victor has called them multiple times and texts often and frequently, but it’s not the same. They’ve been drawing and painting, mostly. They had to run out and get more canvases after their ballet lesson on Friday. They’ve mainly been doing their painting at night when Phichit is asleep so he won’t criticize their rituals and distract them. Yuuri’s even tried their hand at playing the guitar and free verse poetry again. It wasn’t exactly good, but it wasn’t exactly bad, either. There was room for improvement.

But tonight was Saturday, and they said that they would go with Phichit and Khoudia to Supernova. Phichit let Yuuri pick out their clothes tonight. Yuuri felt that it was fitting to wear their space-themed clothes. They didn’t have any space-themed pants, but their jeans complimented the outfit just as well. Phichit decided to wear jeans and his EXO sweater. Khoudia said that she was going to meet them at the apartment to change clothes. Her parents and sisters must’ve pressured her into looking like a “proper woman” instead of a “hoodlum” tonight. Yuuri didn’t know how much Khoudia told her parents about what she was doing tonight, but they were sure that she didn’t mention to her devout Muslim parents that she was going to a gay bar with her queer friends to get her mind off of a girl that’s ignoring her messages. That wouldn’t go over well at all.

“Hey!” Khoudia said as she came in. She took off her boots. She was wearing a skirt tonight; her parents must have made her wear it. “I can’t believe I’m going with y’all to a gay bar tonight!” She was beaming. “I called Adé to ask if they wanted to come, but they said that their partner wouldn’t let them. So I guess it’s just us tonight.” She shrugged and took off her coat. Phichit was on the sofa, scrolling through his Instagram feed. Yuuri was in the bathroom, doing their eyeliner. They couldn’t get it as sharp as Guang Hong made it, but they were able to look passable. Yuuri walked out of the bathroom. They picked Khoudia up and spun her around.

“You were saying that Adé’s partner wouldn’t let them come out tonight?” Phichit asked. Khoudia nodded once Yuuri put her down. “Tragic, just tragic. We need to have an intervention or something.” Yuuri agreed.

“I’m going to go change,” Khoudia said. Yuuri and Phichit nodded. She walked to the bathroom with her bag and didn’t shut the door behind her.

"Baby, take a selfie with me," Phichit said. He started to angle his phone. Yuuri stood behind Phichit’s spot on the sofa and placed their chin on Phichit’s head. "There we go. Let's take another one. Sit next to me." Yuuri flung themselves over the sofa and plopped next to Phichit. They fixed their clothes and placed their head on Phichit’s shoulders. Then they took another one where Yuuri’s nose grazed Phichit’s ear. Then another one where they kissed. “I cannot post the last two on Instagram,” Phichit remarked. “Your boyfriend might start following me on there, and he might see it, and I'm not trying to ruin anything." Yuuri shrugged. “Don’t shrug. This is serious.”

“I know it’s serious.”

“Then act like it,” Phichit said. Yuuri yawned. “Am I boring you?”

"Of course not. I just slept poorly because a certain someone wants to shave my head." Yuuri side-eyed Phichit and smirked. Phichit nudged Yuuri’s arm and laughed.

“Didn’t you say that you weren’t going to sleep last night?” Phichit snapped back.

“I did, but the flesh is weak,” Yuuri said. "The flesh is weak, and I was tired." Phichit giggled. “But I’m glad that you didn’t shave my head last night. I like having hair.”

“I didn’t shave your head last night because you looked so peaceful when you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Phichit kissed Yuuri’s cheek. “Aah! I keep forgetting about Victor! Sorry!” Phichit was blushing something fierce, and Yuuri patted his back. Phichit placed his face in Yuuri’s chest, and Yuuri hugged him. "Stop. Indulging. Me. You're making it worse!"

“What am I supposed to do?!” Yuuri screeched.

“Let me suffer!”

“How am I supposed to sit here and let my lapinou suffer?” Yuuri asked. They hugged Phichit tighter. “I’m not going to let you freak out over something that’s still new to the both of us. It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“You still haven’t told Victor about us.” Phichit pulled away from Yuuri. “He’s going to ask.” Yuuri stayed silent. “You have no clue what to tell him, do you?”

“Well,” Yuuri said.

“What?”

“When we first went to the museum, he asked about what we do. I think he was curious about why you pick out my clothes. He was laughing really hard when I told him that you do that.” Yuuri bit their lip. “Speaking of, why don’t you let me pick out my clothes for things?”

"If it were up to you, you would wear nothing but sweats, floral harem pants, and hoodies."

“I would have been fine wearing floral pants and a hoodie to the museum, though,” Yuuri said.

“I wasn’t going to let my baby walk out of the house looking homely,” Phichit said. "The goal was to dazzle Victor, and I succeeded." Yuuri looked at their fingers. "And I will continue to pick out your clothes because I still don't want you to look homely when you're with Victor. I want my beloved to be happy.” Phichit tenderly stroked Yuuri’s face. “…And look good. I want you to be happy and look good.”

“And does being happy mean you being in misery?” Yuuri asked.

“I am not in misery.”

“A little heartbroken then.”

“I am not heartbroken either.”

“Mm-hm,” Yuuri said.

“You have jokes, Yuuri Katsuki,” Phichit said, playfully shoving Yuuri.

“I smell boys being gay!” Khoudia said, tottering out of the bathroom. She didn't have a shirt on, and her jeans were halfway up. She stood at the entrance to the living room. Yuuri and Phichit looked back at Khoudia as she bounced to pull her jeans up. "Stop being gay. I'm trying to get dressed, and I don't want to miss anything." 

“Khoudia, finish getting dressed,” Yuuri said. “I know you feel at home here, but please finish getting dressed.”

“Fine, fine,” Khoudia said, finally getting her pants over her butt. She zipped her pants and walked back into the bathroom. Phichit whistled as Khoudia walked. “Shut up!” Yuuri and Phichit snickered. “Remember: Hold off on the gay until I’m done dressing!” She yelled from the bathroom.

“We will!” Phichit said. Yuuri was smiling from ear to ear. Phichit woke up his phone and went to check his Instagram. “I’m posting our selfie.” Yuuri nodded and grabbed their phone to check their Tumblr. “Are you bringing your portable charger?” Yuuri nodded.

“Are you still waiting for yours to come?” Phichit nodded. “Did you check the mail today?” Phichit pursed his lips. “You didn’t check the mail today, did you?”

“I did not.” Yuuri sighed and got up. “Where are you going?”

“To check the mail.” Yuuri put on their sneakers and went downstairs. Phichit’s package was in the mailbox, waiting for him. When Yuuri was downstairs, they saw their conservative, middle-aged neighbor. “Hello,” Yuuri said. She stayed silent. “Have a nice day,” Yuuri said as they closed the box and went back upstairs.

“Was it in there?” Yuuri nodded and gave it to him. They put the rest of the mail on the coffee table. That will be handled when they come back. Or tomorrow. Or next week. Or never. Probably never. “Thank you, ma poupée.”

“No problem, lapinou.”

“Okay, ready!” Khoudia walked out of the bathroom in her ripped jeans, white leggings, and Steven Universe crop top. She spun around slowly, modeling her outfit. “I look great, don’t I?” She struck a pose. “It’s okay, y’all don’t need to say anything.”

“Why are you wearing a crop top when it’s winter?” Yuuri questioned.

“Technically, it’s still autumn,” Khoudia said.

“That isn’t the point,” Yuuri said. “It’s cold. Put on a jacket.”

“A hoe never gets cold,” Khoudia said. Phichit started laughing. “Plus, I am going to wear my coat. When we leave. But right now, I look cute. Someone take pictures of me.” Yuuri and Phichit snapped flicks of Khoudia as she made various poses. Her hair was in box braids, and she had it in a bun. It complemented the outfit very well. "Ah, thank you, thank you. Now send them to me. I have to post those on Instagram." Yuuri rolled their eyes and laughed. Khoudia walked over to her boots and put them back on.

“Where are you putting your other clothes?” Phichit asked.

“I left them in the bathroom.”

“You can put them in here.” Khoudia walked back into the bathroom, folded her clothes, and put them in her bag. She came back into the living room with her bag and put it on the sofa. Phichit got up to put on his shoes; Yuuri followed. They put on their coats and left for Supernova.

#

**(Saturday, 21 November 2015 – 8:04pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Supernova was a tiny bar in the middle of the block. The sign was in black and white, and they had the bar name in the window. The bar wasn't full, but it wasn't exactly empty either. It was quiet inside. Yuuri, Phichit, and Khoudia were sitting in the quiet bar, drinking their beers. Khoudia was silent, watching Yuuri and Phichit look at each other.

“You know,” Khoudia said.

“What?”

"It's hard to believe that you two aren't together anymore. Nothing has changed between you two." Khoudia took a sip of her beer and belched. Phichit looked over at Yuuri. They were silent and drank their beer. “Phichit still gives you that look – that soft, doting look.” Yuuri shrugged and looked over at Phichit. They reached over and wiped something off of Phichit’s cheek. “And you still act all nonchalant but loving towards him. Nothing has changed.”

“Well, some things have changed,” Phichit said. “Yuuri doesn’t do drugs anymore.”

“Yeah, I remember you having a fit about their drug usage early in the relationship,” Khoudia said, laughing. Phichit took a swig of beer.

“I stopped to appease you, remember?” Yuuri said. “We pinky swore.” Yuuri leaned back in their chair and took another sip of beer. Then they took out their phone and took a picture of Phichit. They didn’t notice or hear the click sound.

“And you haven’t gone back on it yet! I’m happy.” Phichit pulled Yuuri’s chair closer to his and placed his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. Khoudia took out her phone and took a flick of Yuuri and Phichit.

“Yuuri’s become a little bit more open because of you. It’s astounding.”

“Don’t you mean affectionate?” Yuuri asked.

“Well, yes, that too,” Khoudia said and took a sip of her drink. “If I went back in time and told myself that Yuuri Katsuki would start giving me hugs, I would not have believed myself. At all." She took another sip of beer. "Why didn't it work out? I've been wondering that for years. You two still act like you're in a relationship despite not being in one."

“Yuuri felt that there was too much pressure attached to the ‘boyfriend’ label. So we ended it amicably and just continued.”

“So you’re still boyfriends, but not in name?” Khoudia asked. Phichit sat up and took a sip of his beer. He was silent. “Am I understanding this wrong?”

“No,” Phichit said. “They’re my platonic life partner. We’re always going to be together.”

“But Yuuri has a boyfriend,” Khoudia said. Yuuri took a sip of beer. “Are you still going to be partners even though Yuuri has a boyfriend?” Phichit nodded. “Yuuri, how do you feel about this?” They shrugged and took another sip. “Ma raison, I’m going to need you to stop being laconic right now. This is important.”

“We’re partners,” Yuuri said. “I am always going to be with Phichit.” Yuuri took a sip of beer and held up their finger. “But, right now, Victor is my boyfriend. Phichit is highly okay with it. But I will have to let Victor know about this and ask him if he’s okay with it.” Yuuri looked for more words to say. “I hope that he’ll agree with this. I want him in my life.”

“As your boyfriend?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri nodded and took a sip of beer. “What if you want to marry him?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Yuuri said.

“Aside from that, any new news in the world of Victuuri?” Yuuri and Phichit looked at Khoudia. “That’s my ship name: Victuuri. I ship this, and I want this." Phichit giggled.

“Victor and Yuuri have been fucking.”

“Honey, that’s not even a secret,” Khoudia said. “Yuuri was glowing after their first date with Victor. They got some then.”

“Oh, I knew,” Phichit said.

“If you knew, what was the point of asking me?” Yuuri said after they took a drink.

“I wanted to hear you say it,” Phichit said after he took a drink. “But it wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t tell me. I knew. Didn’t think Victor would leave hickeys this time, though.” Phichit was still in mild disbelief.

“There’s hickeys?!” Khoudia yelped. Phichit took out his phone and showed Khoudia pictures of them. He must have taken those while Yuuri was sleeping. “Ooh,” Khoudia said. Then she looked at Yuuri. “Would it be wrong of me to say that he has it bad for you? Because I believe that he has it bad.” She stressed the word “bad.”

“He said that he missed me a lot when I was in Bordeaux.”

“He missed you so much that he left marks and had to get in them guts.” Khoudia giggled madly. Yuuri rolled their eyes and took a drink. “Anyway, where is he?”

“Nagano,” Phichit said. Khoudia took a sip of beer. “NHK event.” She nodded and took another sip of beer.

“Wait, I have an important question before we start to discuss figure skating!” Khoudia said.

“Shoot,” Yuuri said.

“Did you leave any marks on Victor? I need to know.” Yuuri deadpanned and took a sip of their drink. And then they took one of Phichit’s. He wasn’t amused.

Then they spoke. “Not on his neck.” Khoudia nodded. “I, unlike Victor, am considerate.” She giggled.

"Imagine if you left them on his neck, and the reporters just started talking about who the mystery woman could be," Khoudia said and laughed. “And then – and _then_ – Victor posts a picture of you being you on Instagram and captions it ‘bae' and the skating world implodes because the Lord and Savior, the Ever-Compassionate Master of Figure Skating is not straight."

“That might honestly decimate the figure skating world,” Phichit said. “And I’m here for it, bitch. Now, on the topic of figure skating.” Yuuri and Khoudia nodded. “Are you watching the NHK event?” Phichit asked Khoudia.

“I was until my sisters bullied me into watching Love & Hip Hop with them.”

“You know, I forget that you have older sisters,” Phichit said.

“It’s funny because they forget about me, too,” Khoudia said before she took a drink. “You would think that they wouldn’t forget that I was born in Dakar just like them – that I’m one of the eldest just like them – but they don’t care to remember.” She took another sip of beer. Yuuri took out their phone and looked at their messages. Nothing new from Victor.

But they did have a text from Chris.

> Chris: wyd cutie?
> 
> : I’m at the bar with some friends

Yuuri took a sip of beer. Then their phone buzzed.

> Chris: Ooh. A night out.
> 
> : Haha yeah

“Ma poupée, who are you texting?”

“Chris.” Phichit nodded and continued to converse with Khoudia.

> Chris: How are your friends?
> 
> : They’re fine. They’re discussing the NHK event.
> 
> Chris: And? Do they like it?

“Hey, I have a question,” Yuuri said. Phichit and Khoudia paid attention. “Do you like the NHK event so far?”

“You interrupted us for that?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri nodded. “I like it so far. Victor’s performance stopped hearts, but that’s no secret.” She took a sip of beer. “But Seung-gil’s performance is my favorite for obvious reasons.”

“What reasons are those?” Phichit asked. Khoudia glared at him. She just took another sip of beer and stayed silent. “Khoudia,” Phichit said. “Khoudia.”

> : My friend likes Seung-gil’s performance.
> 
> Chris: A Seung-gil stan? Of course lmao
> 
> : Not a stan. A professional skater.
> 
> Chris: Oh? What’s their name?

“Khoudia, Chris is asking for your name.” Yuuri put their phone down and took a sip. “What do you want me to say?”

“Khoudia.” She sucked her teeth and looked back at Phichit. She seemed genuinely peeved.

> : Khoudia.
> 
> Chris: Does she have an IG?

“Do you mind if I give him your Instagram?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia waved her hand. They interpreted that as a “yes” and gave it to Chris. He said that he was going to follow her immediately. “He’s going to follow you on Instagram.” Khoudia nodded. “Can you two start talking to each other again?” Yuuri said. “Phichit, Khoudia’s favorite performance is Seung-gil’s performance because she has a fan crush on him. Khoudia, literally no one would know why his performance is your favorite because you’re thirsting over female skaters all the time. There.”

“Thank you for explaining that, Yuuri,” Phichit said.

“I am not that gay all the time,” Khoudia muttered.

“Yes you are,” Phichit said. “We literally would not be in a gay bar right now if you could stop being gay and liking girls who aren’t interested in you.” Khoudia deadpanned.

“All I’m saying is that Franziska could’ve at least texted me back and tell me that she wasn’t interested in talking to me. It’s not hard.”

“Maybe she lost your number,” Yuuri suggested. They emotionally prepared themselves for the backlash.

“How do you lose a number on an iPhone? Tell me how!” Khoudia screeched.

“Calm down. She hasn’t texted back, and she probably won’t. We’re here to get your mind off of her.” Phichit took a sip of his beverage. “Now, let’s focus on something that isn’t her.”

“One more thing?”

“Yes,” Phichit said.

“She’s at the NHK event,” Khoudia said and took a sip of beer. "There. It's out of my system." She took another sip and scratched her forehead. "I needed a night like this." Yuuri nodded. “And this night is advantageous for Yuuri, too,” she said.

“Why me?”

“You can get your mind off of your boyfriend tonight,” she said. “Also, Phichit gets to be with us. We all win tonight.” Khoudia beamed, her gap teeth showing. And so they yapped and yapped about minutia until their third pitcher of beer. Then they started to reminisce about Pride 2013 and how it was a lovely adventure for all of them. It was before Adé had got with their current partner and their partner took control of most of their social life. They went out freely and didn’t have to worry about displeasing their partner in some minute way. It was an infinitely better time before Jordan. They were still estranged from their family, but Adé only had to disappoint their family twice. They didn’t have to live in too much fear. They were simply the carefree black kid that they’ve always been – before and after coming out.

But that was then. This is now. And Adé’s partner is a whole asshole.

#

**(Sunday, 22 November 2015 –** **2:44am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

They called it a night hours ago. Khoudia had gotten the number of a cute criminal justice major. She was 5’9 and had curly black hair. She said she didn’t go to bars much, but she was glad that she met someone while she was out. That made Khoudia happy.

But now they were home. Khoudia laid in Phichit’s bed, cuddled up with his hamster throw. Phichit was in bed with Yuuri, sharing the Starry Night Over the Rhône throw. Unlike the humans, the hamsters were asleep.

“Hey,” Khoudia said. She put her phone under the pillow.

“What?” Phichit asked. He stopped scrolling through his feed for a moment.

“Are we really going to have an intervention?” She asked and rolled over to face the two.

“I was just throwing the idea out there. Do we even have the faculties to have one?” Yuuri yawned in Phichit's ear. “Gross,” he said. “Yuuri, what do you think we should do? You have the most experience with mental health stuff.”

“I’m not the best person to consult about this,” Yuuri said.

“But you’re the only person with hands-on psych stuff experience,” Khoudia said.

“Do you really want my opinion?”

“Yes,” Phichit said.

“Fine.” Yuuri scratched their chest. “We can’t make Adé break up with Jordan even if we wanted to. The best we can do is tell Adé that we don’t care for them, provide our reasons why, and hope that they take them to heart. We can assist them and give them the resources they need to pull away, but they need to make that decision on their own. They have to want to get out of the coffin.”

“Who said anything about coffins?” Phichit asked.

“No one, but I’m trying to make a point here,” Yuuri said. “We can hold the intervention, but it might not be the most effective way to get our point across.” Yuuri yawned. “Do what you want. I’ll get roped along eventually.” Yuuri checked their phone.

> Chris: How was the bar?
> 
> : It was nice. Khoudia got a number.
> 
> Chris: Nice, nice.

Yuuri rolled on their back.

> Chris: When’s your next event?
> 
> : Next week.
> 
> Chris: Ooh!!
> 
> Chris: I finally get the chance to meet Victor’s beloved
> 
> Chris: I’m so excited. What should we do when we link up?

Yuuri looked at the notification. They put their phone under the pillow and closed their eyes. They don’t have to respond right now; they’ll get to that in the morning.

#

**(Sunday, 22 November 2015 –** **7:07am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Ah, _солнышко_ ,” Victor said. Yuuri was sweeping the living room in preparation for their stretching. Eduvigis had complained that Yuuri wasn’t stretching as often as they should. She said that their back was tighter than it needs to be. So what does Yuuri do? Decide to stretch their back and hips. Eduvigis also complained about their hips needing to regain their flexibility. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” Yuuri stopped sweeping and went to get the dustpan. “How’s Japan treating you?” They asked. Yuuri came back to the broom and continued to clean.

“I like it. I wish I could read the signs, though.” Yuuri chuckled. “But I found a bookstore. Shame I couldn’t read anything in there.”

“What’s the bookstore called?”

“Tsutsaya, I think.”

“Oh, Tsutaya? Nice,” Yuuri said and started to sweep up the dust and grit. “I go in there a lot. Well, I _went_ in there a lot.” Yuuri yawned. “That changed when the fire nation attacked.” They laughed at their joke, but Victor was silent. "Victor?"

“I don’t understand your joke, Yura,” Victor said.

“It’s an ATLA reference, Victor.”

“I don’t know what that is,” he said. Yuuri stopped sweeping and looked at their phone. “What is it?” Yuuri briefly debated on hanging up their phone but opted for not being a rude ass and keeping him on the line.

“It’s from the opening of a cartoon.” Yuuri swept the dust and grit into the dustpan and disposed of it. “You need to watch it. I’ll watch it with you. It’s a good show.” Yuuri swept the living room again.

“I’d like that a lot,” Victor said. “How many things did we say that we’re going to do together?”

“I… I don’t know,” Yuuri said. They swept the second batch of dust and grit into the dustpan and disposed of it again. Then they went back to clean some more. “Do you still want to watch me do digital art?”

“Yes.” Yuuri heard a popping sound, and it didn't come from them.

“We have to talk,” Yuuri said. Now they have two things to tell Victor.

“What does it entail?”

“Two things,” Yuuri muttered. “The nature of our relationship and something else.” Victor made a sound of confusion.

“I… I thought our relationship was established,” Victor said. “I asked ‘what are we’ and –”

“You have to be explicit with me." Yuuri yawned. "Reading between the lines and analyzing subtext is not my specialty, and I am not too skilled in it." Yuuri swept up the third batch of dust and grit – which was hardly anything at all – into the dustpan and threw it away. They should be able to stretch without feeling grit on their skin.

“So, what do you want?”

“Be clear about this.”

“Aren’t you my boyfriend?” Victor asked.

“I am?” Yuuri asked. They got on the floor and started to stretch.

“Yes!” Victor declared.

“Alright then,” Yuuri said. “I’m your boyfriend.” Yuuri bit their lip. They let the word rest on their palate, taking it in. They wanted to get used to this. Doubly so since they heard it from the horse’s mouth. “But that’s only part of what I wanted to ask you.”

“There’s more?” Victor asked.

“Yes,” Yuuri said. “But I think I’d rather talk about that later.”

“You can’t tell me that there’s ‘more’ and then refuse to elaborate on what ‘more’ means,” Victor said. “So tell me now.”

“It involves Phichit. We might have to go out.” Yuuri switched to a new position. “He wants to sit down and have a chat with you.”

“And I would like to sit down with him, too,” he said. “When does he want to chat?” Yuuri pulled themselves up from their stretch and looked at their phone. They didn’t expect to get this far with this discussion. Hell, they didn’t think they'd have this discussion. They expected Victor to just accept that there was more to be said that couldn't be said at that moment and leave it at that.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask him.”

“Good.” Yuuri nodded and moved into a new position. This one stretched their hamstrings. “So, what time is it there?”

“7:28.”

“What are you doing up?”

“Sweeping,” Yuuri said and switched to their other leg. “I just wanted to sweep this morning.” They left out the stretching that came after the sweeping. They’ve never mentioned Eduvigis to Victor before, and they don’t plan on doing that right now. They know that they can’t keep this up; they can’t keep up the apathy and being a closed book, offering only excerpts and samples. They’ll have to start somewhere. “But right now, I’m stretching,” Yuuri said before they could catch themselves trying to filter their words.

“Stretching? What for?”

“My ballet instructor complained that I’m too stiff.” Yuuri laid prone on the floor. “So here I am. Stretching. Like she asked.” Yuuri sat with their back to the back of the chair. “Well, it was less like she asked and more like she… I don’t know. Demanded?” They looked at the entrance to the hallway. "I only caught part of what she said. She was speaking so fast that I couldn't catch what she was saying. But I did catch that she was irate about it and that something means nothing without the flexibility to go with it." 

“Something?”

“I missed the word that she said before ‘means,’” Yuuri said. “Eduvigis, for lack of a better word, asked, and I will supply.”

“Is that her name? Eduvigis?” Victor stumbled over their ballet instructor’s name. “What kind of name is that?”

"I don't know, but I know that it's her name, and it's perfect for her." Yuuri looked at their feet. “She explained once that it’s derived from Hedwig. So I guess that if you have a problem saying Eduvigis, you can say Hedwig.”

“Where is she from?”

“Havana,” Yuuri said. They did a split, but it wasn't a 180º one. Yuuri decided to continue with a different type of hip flexibility stretch. Victor was silent. “Eduvigis is nice. I think you’d like her. I’d suggest that you come with me to a ballet lesson so you can meet her, but you have a class on Friday mornings.”

“You remember that?” Victor sounded genuinely surprised.

“Of course I did.” Yuuri made a face in response to the pulling sensation in their inner thigh. “If you could look past her accent – which is adorable, might I add – I think you’d like her. She counts in Spanish!” Yuuri gushed. “She’s adorable when she speaks Spanish!” They flopped on the floor and laid there. Yuuri heard footsteps coming towards the living room. They looked at the entrance; it was Khoudia.

“What are you doing?” Khoudia asked.

“Stretching,” Yuuri said to Khoudia. She walked over to their body and knelt. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Who are you talking to?” Victor asked.

“Khadijah,” Yuuri told Victor.

“Yuuri, who is that?”

“My boyfriend,” Yuuri said. Khoudia got up and went back into the room. “She spent the night with us. We went out last night.” Khoudia came back with the mat she uses for morning prayer when she’s here. She shook it out towards the door and placed it parallel to Yuuri’s body. “Khoudia, are you really?” Yuuri asked.

"Yes," she said. "Continue stretching. I'll pray." She got up to go to the bathroom. She has to go and do her ablutions and cover her hair before she starts.

“Khoudia is going to pray right now.”

“Why did you say her name differently?” Victor asked.

“Because that’s her name,” Yuuri said. “Her name is Khoudia.”

“But you told me Khadijah.”

“I told you ‘Khadijah’ because she finds it simpler to tell people rather than walking them through pronouncing ‘Khoudia.’” Yuuri sat up and pushed Khoudia’s mat closer to the wall. "I meant to explain that to you sooner." Victor stayed silent. "If it helps, you can still say Khadijah. She doesn't mind." 

“Still though,” Victor said. “How do you say ‘Khoudia’?” Victor stumbled over her name. “I want to know.”

“Khuu-ja,” Yuuri said. “It’s the French spelling of the Wolof pronunciation.”

“Khuu…ja?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said. They looked down the hall. The bathroom door was still closed. “Khoudia might be able to explain it better than me.”

“No, no, this is fine,” Victor said. There was silence. “So, what is she doing right now?”

“Washing up for prayer.” Yuuri thought they saw the door open, but it was still closed. “She’s Muslim,” they elaborated.

“Ah,” Victor said. “Is she devout?”

Yuuri thought. Then they decided. “No, she’s not.” Khoudia’s family habitually calls her a bad Muslimah. Unlike her elder sisters, she wears tight-fitting clothes, doesn't wear a hijab, drinks, and she frequently keeps company with those who are haram to her. On top of that, she's also a figure skater – something her father disapproves of highly. They let her do it, but they also shame her for being the extremely odd one. They're more lenient with her younger siblings, though. If it weren't for Khoudia paving the way, Amadou wouldn’t be allowed to pursue music, Malik wouldn’t be allowed to aspire to be a professional basketball player, and Aida and Yande wouldn't be allowed to do ballet. She's a trailblazer. 

Khoudia came out of the bathroom, her face, hands, and feet washed. She knelt on the mat.

“I heard you trying to explain how to pronounce my name,” Khoudia said. “You did a good job, Yuuri.”

“Hello Khoudia,” Victor said, using his newfound knowledge. “How are you today?”

“Hungover. I’ll live, though.” Khoudia scratched her neck and rubbed her eyes. “Are you going to watch?” She asked Yuuri. They nodded. “I ask you two to please be quiet.”

“I have one question,” Yuuri said. She nodded. “Didn’t you already miss the first prayer time?” Khoudia looked at Yuuri and sucked their teeth. “That’s a yes, isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes.

Then she got up and stood on the mat. She raised her hands to her ears and said, “Allahu akbar.” She placed her hands on her sternum and kept her gaze downward. She started a recitation. Then she went into ruku and said, “Allahu akbar.” Yuuri got gratification out of watching Khoudia go through the motions of praying. Then she muttered a sentence. Yuuri extended their right leg to the right and leaned sideways. They were stretching their hamstring again. Then she stood up straight and started another recitation. Then she went into sajdah and said, “Allahu akbar.” Then she muttered another sentence. Then Khoudia sat on her knees and repeated a phrase three times. She went back into sajdah and repeated another sentence three times. Then she sat on her knees again; thus ends the first rakat. She did these two more times, and then she finished by saying her valedictions to the angels on her shoulders. She was done now.

“You two can talk now,” Khoudia said. “Yuuri, do you need me to help you stretch?”

“I need to work on my middle splits.”

“I got you,” she said. “Assume the position.”

“Can I stretch my other leg first?” Khoudia nodded. Yuuri brought their right leg in and extended their left leg towards the left, their toes en pointe. They leaned sideways. Khoudia got off of her mat and went to put it away. “Victor, are you still there?”

“I am.” There was silence. “Do you know what Khoudia was saying when she was praying?”

“Not a clue,” Yuuri said. They raised themselves from their position and raised their hands towards the ceiling. Khoudia came back.

“Are you ready?” Yuuri nodded. “Great!” She sat in front of Yuuri. “Also, you two can continue talking. Pretend I’m not here or whatever.” Then she got behind Yuuri and shoved them forward. “You need more room behind you. So, Victor, how’s Japan?”

“It’s so lovely,” Victor said. “I wish I could read the signs, though.”

“Did you know that Yuuri’s family has an _onsen_ in Kyushu?” Khoudia volunteered. She wasn’t specific about where their _onsen_ was, but she gave the island. They rolled their eyes. Yuuri stretched their legs forward and reached as Khoudia pressed down on their back.

“He’s never told me that.” Khoudia plucked Yuuri’s neck. “He doesn’t talk about himself too much,” Victor said. Khoudia plucked Yuuri’s neck again.

“Ah, well, they’re kind of withdrawn and stuff.” Khoudia stopped pressing down on Yuuri’s back, and Yuuri sat up.

“How long have you known him?” Victor asked. Khoudia had Yuuri twist left and right. Then she had them stretch forward and reach again.

“I’ve known them since I started college,” she said and pressed down on their back. “They’re a super chill person.”

“I don’t know if ‘chill’ is the word I’d use,” Victor said. Yuuri glared at their phone. “I’d say reserved or withdrawn.”

“To the untrained eye, Yuuri does look rather withdrawn.” Khoudia had Yuuri sit up again. “Underneath their withdrawn exterior, there is an entire fire within them.” Yuuri twisted left then right again. “I’m glad they’ve found someone. I mean that, truly,” she said.

“I’m glad I’ve found him,” Victor said. There was a silence. Khoudia slapped Yuuri’s back.

“Say something!” She whispered harshly. Yuuri stayed silent. “They won’t come out and say it, but they’re glad they have you, too.” She giggled. Unlike her laugh, it was sweet and airy. Yuuri reached towards their feet again, and Khoudia pressed down on their back. “They’re not very good with emotions.”

“So I’ve heard,” Victor said.

“They’ll get there. I’ll make them get there.”

“No, you won’t,” Yuuri said. “I’ll get there when I get there.” Khoudia slapped Yuuri’s back, and they winced. “You can stop helping me now. You’re going to kill me after this.”

"No, I won't. I wouldn't dare touch a hair on your head." Khoudia stood up. “Now, 180º split time.”

“I don’t think I’m physically ready for that right now,” Yuuri muttered.

“Just try it,” she sweetly prodded. “You’re not so stiff that you’ve lost the ability to do splits, are you?”

“I’m not, but–”

“So do it,” she said. Yuuri spread their legs and reached towards their left foot. Khoudia pressed down on Yuuri’s right side to deepen it.

“I think I’ll leave you two to your stretching,” Victor said. “I don’t want to disturb you any more than I already have.”

“Well, it was lovely talking to you!” Khoudia beamed. “I hope I get to talk to you again. This was nice.”

“It certainly was,” Victor said. “Sunshine, I’ll text you.” Khoudia grinned when she heard that. Yuuri could tell that she was going to have a field day with that. “I love you.” Then Khoudia’s eyes widened. She looked at Yuuri, waiting for a response. She flicked their neck to get a response from them.

“I–I love you, too,” Yuuri said. They felt their chest constrict. They couldn’t believe that they had just said that – out loud, nonetheless. It felt wrong to them. Not because they were saying it to a man – they’ve said it to several men – but because it was under duress. They had wanted their first “I love you” to be organic, springing from a place of perfect ecstasy and harmony. They’ve almost said it after their bouts of messing around, but they’ve always held themselves back. “A better time,” they told themselves. That better time never really came about – or maybe it did; instead, it was just unidentifiable to Yuuri.

Khoudia ended the call and smiled as if she had accomplished something great today.

#

**(Sunday, 22 November 2015 – 9:09am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri, Phichit, and Khoudia agreed to get something to eat before they take her home. So they were sitting in a diner, looking over the menus. “I can’t believe you two were up before me. And Khoudia did her morning prayer."

“Even though she missed the first one.”

“I was drunk, okay?” Khoudia said. She muttered something under her breath about being drunk and praying. Then she continued to look at her menu. "Last night was fun." This was spoken like less of an opinion expressed by an active participant and more like a casual observation. 

“And no one tried to use a swing set like a dance pole,” Phichit said. “I’m proud of you two.”

“We just went out for beers,” Yuuri said. “If it had been rum or vodka, I can’t promise you that that wouldn’t have happened.”

“You two just need to stay away from hard liquor.” Yuuri and Khoudia laughed. “How did you two sleep?” Khoudia shrugged. “What about you, ma poupée?”

“I… I slept,” Yuuri said. “I did that.” Then they looked at their phone. They had two texts from Mari.

> Mari: Hey there, little brother
> 
> Mari: What’s new with you?

“You two are wrecks,” Phichit said with a laugh. Yuuri took a quick flick of Khoudia and Phichit looking at their menus. Yuuri already knew what they wanted.

> : It’s almost the end of the semester
> 
> : I do not want to die
> 
> : My next event is this coming week
> 
> : Wait hold on

“Khoudia,” Yuuri said, “you know our event is this week, right?” Khoudia looked like she had a glass thrown in her face. Her hands found their way to her face, and she held them there. "Are you okay?"

“I haven’t even started packing.” She took out her phone. “It’s time for me to ask Adeola and Fatou to do me a favor.” She unlocked her phone and started texting. “I know I’ll have to go behind them and check, but still.”

> : Okay so my event is this week
> 
> : It’s almost the end of the semester
> 
> : I DO want to die
> 
> : I am very anxious
> 
> : haha :0(

“You two are going to leave me all alone,” Phichit said, pouting slightly.

“You won’t be alone,” Khoudia said. “You have Masabeeh and Tal’at to keep you company.” Phichit rolled his eyes. “And maybe Adé’s partner would be so gracious to let Adé spend the night so you would have someone to talk to.”

“No, no, I’ll live. I have the hamsters to give me all the company I need.” Phichit put down his menu. “I’ve decided on what I’m getting.” Khoudia looked down at her menu.

“Are the pancakes here good?” Yuuri nodded. “I guess I’m getting pancakes,” Khoudia said and put down her menu. “I hope they have turkey bacon.”

“They do,” Yuuri said.

“Oh, good,” she said. “Are you going to make me get scones?” She questioned irreverently.

“They don’t have scones.” Yuuri played with the edges of their menu. “Try again.” Khoudia rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. When Khoudia’s phone buzzed, a waitress came out to take their orders. They ordered and resumed their chatter. “Are Adeola and Fatou going to pack for you?” Yuuri asked.

“Fatou said she’ll do it,” Khoudia said. “Now I have to wait to see if Adeola is on board.” There was silence. “I hope she says yes. I’ve been less annoying than usual. She _has_ to help me if I’ve been less annoying.”

“You’ve only been less annoying because you’ve been out of the house more,” Phichit pointed out.

“Are you calling me annoying?” Khoudia asked. The waitress came back with their drinks: an iced coffee, tea, and a glass of grape juice.

“You said it. Not me.” Phichit took a sip of his tea. “Since when do you drink iced coffee?” He asked Yuuri.

“Since I’ve started asking for a bunch of sugar in it,” Yuuri said. Khoudia took a sip of her grape juice. “Shouldn’t you let your tea cool off before you drink it?” Yuuri swirled their iced coffee and took a sip. It was nice.

“But you hate coffee.”

“Correction: I hate _hot_ coffee. Iced coffee is somehow more palatable.” Yuuri shrugged.

“Is this one of those sensory things that you suck at explaining but understand very well?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri nodded. “I see.”

> Mari: Don’t worry about your event.
> 
> Mari: You’ll do fine.
> 
> Mari: You have us to cheer you on.
> 
> : I think that makes it worse somehow
> 
> Mari: How so?

“Who are you texting? Your boyfriend?” Phichit cheekily asked.

“No. Mari,” Yuuri said. Phichit nodded and drank some tea. “She’s saying that I don’t have to worry about anything because I have them – not quite sure who ‘them’ are, by the way – to cheer me on, but I’m not so sure.” Yuuri took a sip of their iced coffee. “It’s not the lack of support that bothers me – and I don’t lack support at all. It’s not being able to perform to my fullest capacity that bothers me.”

“Well, what did you do to perform the way you did at the Bompard?” Khoudia asked.

“I channeled the fervor I had for dancing with you and the feelings I have for Victor.”

Khoudia nodded and said, “Recreate those feelings and do that.” She took a sip of her juice. “Just summon all of the feverish desire in you and put that into your routine.”

“But I don’t remember how I did that,” Yuuri admitted.

“Well, what were you doing before you stepped on the ice?”

“I was getting my makeup done by Guang Hong,” Yuuri said. Khoudia made a face. “Guang Hong is one of Phichit’s friends.” Khoudia nodded. “Then Ciao Ciao told me that I need to stay put and stretch.” Yuuri took a sip of their coffee. “So I stretched and warmed up like he told me.”

“Did you think about anything in particular?” Khoudia took a sip of her grape juice and pressed her lower lip against the lip of the glass. Yuuri shrugged. "Come on; you _had_ to have been thinking about something.” Yuuri shrugged again. “Your mind is not a refuge. You have not mastered Zen. You were thinking about something.”

“I thought about coming home and being with you two. And I also thought about my next date and all the things that might happen.” Yuuri took a sip of their coffee and kept their gaze downward.

"Come on; you can do better than that. Break it down. Start identifying emotions," Khoudia said. She took a sip of her juice and put the cup on a napkin. Yuuri shrugged. They were going to be here for a while.

#


	38. Carnations that Propagate Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's on his way back to Detroit.

#

**(Monday, 23 November 2015 –** **2:14pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri’s math class is over. They walked out of the classroom and strolled. They decided to go to the cafeteria to get a bottle of water. The vending machine doesn’t have anything worthwhile in there. The only thing worthy of purchase was water. It was 29ºF today, so they decided against going outside. Instead, they went up to the library and sat in the space they shared with Victor. They opened their “Monday” binder. They have a European history essay to do. Yuuri looked at the prompt and deemed it to be relatively straightforward. They have an idea of what they want to do for the paper, and they feel that they’d be able to knock it out of the park.

Yuuri put their binder away and looked across from them. On a typical day, Victor would be here, next to Yuuri. They would be discussing some inane thing. Victor would be all heart eyes, handholds, and quick heartbeats; Yuuri would be internally and externally trembling. They would quake in delight and anxiety with every little thing Victor did. On a special day, they would be together, somewhere else. Yuuri would rather have an average day or a special day; either one was fine with them as long as it wasn’t today.

They took out their sketchbook and started to draw the bookshelf across from them. Yuuri’s phone buzzed as they reached for their ruler.

> Mari: What are you doing?
> 
> : Drawing a bookshelf.
> 
> Mari: Sounds boring as hell lmao
> 
> Mari: I’m going to call you really quick

A call came through from Mari, and Yuuri picked up. “Hey there,” Mari said. Yuuri smiled. “How’s that bookshelf coming along?” Yuuri looked at it and then at the page. Then back at the bookshelf and back at the page. “Well?”

“It could be better. I’ll send you a picture.” Yuuri sent Mari a flick of their drawing. It looked gross, and that upset Yuuri. “Did you see it?”

“Yeah. It looks like it could be better.”

“It can be,” Yuuri said. “What about you?” Yuuri asked. “How have your artistic pursuits been going?”

“Well, I haven’t been too inspired to write much of anything, and I haven’t read anything new.” Mari sighed. “I’ve just been working. I need something new.” A light bulb went off in Yuuri’s head.

“I have a suggestion for you!”

“You do? Tell me.”

“Crime and Punishment.”

“Crime… and… Punishment?” She repeated. “Who wrote that?”

“Fyodor Dostoyevsky,” Yuuri said, reaching in their bag to look at the cover of the book. “It’s a thick book. It’ll keep you occupied for a while.”

“Why are you reading Russian literature?” Mari asked. “What got you into it?”

“Well, my friend is Russian, and I wanted to surprise them by reading it,” Yuuri said. “Plus, I am trying to be cultured.” Yuuri let the book rest on their binder.

“Why do you need to be cultured?” Mari asked. “You’re already cultured. You’re an artist.” Mari had aspirations to be an artist but discovered that drawing wasn’t in her portion. She found that she was a stronger writer; It worked out in the end. Mari majored in Japanese Language and Literature and loved every moment of it.

“I decided that I needed to expand my literature palate,” Yuuri explained. Mari scoffed. “What? Can’t I expand my palate?”

“You can, but it’s weird. Why are you doing this for a person?” Mari questioned. “Do you like them?” Yuuri was silent. “Do you even know that you like them?”

“I like him a lot,” Yuuri said. They didn’t care that they didn’t keep it ambiguous anymore. They’d have to come out to their family eventually. Maybe they could make headway today.

“Him?” Mari asked. “It’s a guy?”

“Yes,” Yuuri weakly said. “He’s a guy, and I’m… I’m all about him.” Yuuri looked at the book cover. “Maybe I’ll bring him home one day.” Yuuri bit their lip and started to think about their heart-mouthed lover. What was he doing right now? Yuuri would have to text them to find out. “I want to bring him home one day.”

“Is that a good idea?” Mari asked. “To bring him home, I mean.” Yuuri felt their heart threaten to beat its way out of their chest. They instantly regretted trying to come out to their sister. They regretted it not because their sister wouldn’t understand, but because this was an awkward conversation that they didn’t plan out at all, and it’s showed. “You know I’ll support you – always and forever – but is this really what you want? Do you want to bring this person home?”

Yuuri sighed and closed their eyes. “You’re right.”

“Yuuri, if you’re gay, claim it. But I’m asking you right now: Is this what you want?”

“Mari, I’m not gay.”

“You’re not? Then why are we discussing bringing a man home to Mom and Dad?”

“I’m pansexual.”

“Hold on, let me look that up,” Mari said. She put her phone down. Yuuri heard keys being tapped and mouse buttons being clicked. “Oh,” she said. “I get it now. I think.” There was a silence. “Do you want this? Are you serious about this?” 

“I do, and I am.” There was a silence. “I think I’m in love with him.”

“And I’m happy for you,” Mari said. “Do you have any concrete plans to bring him home?” Mari clicked something.

“No, not yet,” Yuuri said. “Right now, all I have is the desire to do so.” Mari chuckled. “What?”

“I know nothing about this person of yours.” Mari yawned. “What’s his name? What does he look like? What does he study? Come on, tell me.” She laughed. “Who has gotten your heart in such a bind?”

“His name is –” Yuuri looked up from their phone. Khoudia was standing in front of them. How strange. They didn’t hear her approach.

“I knew you’d be here,” she said.

“Mari, I’m going to have to call you back.” Mari ended the call, and Yuuri put their phone in their pocket. “Hey Khoudia,” Yuuri said. Khoudia took a seat near Yuuri and sighed. “Didn’t you say that you weren’t coming in today?”

“I did,” she admitted. “But I just had to get away from Adeola and Fatou for a bit. Adeola was being a rude ass, and my mom wasn’t trying to stop her. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“So, you come to the campus?” She nodded. “That’s rough,” Yuuri said.

“What about you? Why are you here when you have a bunch of packing to do?” Khoudia nudged Yuuri.

“I just needed some normalcy,” Yuuri said. “Something normal before my life is thrown into disarray.” Khoudia laughed.

“College for professional figure skaters is anything but normal, ma raison,” she said. “Do you want to go to the café really quickly? We can get a hot chocolate.” Yuuri nodded and put Crime and Punishment away. They buttoned up their coat and left the library, trailing behind Khoudia. “Why are you behind me? Stand next to me.” Yuuri stood next to Khoudia and stretched. “Show off,” she scoffed. Yuuri laughed. They waited and waited for the elevator. “Do you want to take the stairs?”

“Sure,” Yuuri said. They took the stairs to the first floor and walked out of the building. They walked to the corner. “So, what was Adeola doing?”

“She was picking on me, and she wouldn’t stop.”

“Are Adeola and Fatou still packing your things?”

“They should be finished by now,” Khoudia said. The light changed; they crossed the street and continued walking. “I hate being the middle daughter. I’m always ignored except for when they want to tease me.” Khoudia stopped walking and held open a door. “We’re here. Have you been in this one before?”

“I don’t think so,” Yuuri said. “Is the hot chocolate here good?” They asked as they walked through the door.

“It’s divine,” she said. “When you drink it, it’s like your tongue is being caressed by velvet. But you know what that’s like, don’t you?” Khoudia said. She laughed, and a woman standing by the napkins looked at her.

“Wait, are you referring to that time I rubbed my face on a roll of velvet, or are you talking about my boyfriend?” They walked to the back of the line. Khoudia was looking at the bulletin board.

“Can’t I be referring to both?”

“I mean, I guess you could,” Yuuri said. “But it’s you. You were referring to Victor.” Khoudia laughed again. “You’re going to get us kicked out of someplace one day.”

“Why?”

“Because of your laugh,” Yuuri said. Khoudia sucked her teeth. “I’m being serious.” They moved up the line. “Your laugh is so weird that people look at us and want to vacate the premises.” She sucked her teeth again. “You do realize that white people are afraid of you, right?”

“I know,” Khoudia said. “I relish in their fear. Because I am great and everyone needs to recognize that.” It was Yuuri’s turn to laugh. “What? Do you disagree with me?”

“No, I know you’re great, and I feel like your greatness should be recognized.” They moved up the line. “But I feel like you’re using ‘fear’ in its archaic form.” Khoudia shrugged and took out her phone. She took a flick of Yuuri. “Is that going on your Instagram?” She nodded. “Of course it is.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed. “Did you just post it?” She nodded.

“Have you spoken to Victor today?”

“Not yet. He’ll probably call later,” Yuuri said. “The NHK Exhibition skate is today, right?” Khoudia nodded. “Nice. I hope he calls to tell me about it.”

“Or you could just watch it online,” Khoudia said. “Just watch it online.” Khoudia took a selfie. “What were you talking about with Mari? Victor?” She curiously asked.

“Yeah, I was telling her about him.” Yuuri looked at their shoes. “Well, _was_. Then you came along, and I had to hang up.” Khoudia smirked. They moved up the line. “What size are you getting?”

“Medium.”

“Then I’ll get a medium,” Yuuri said.

“What were you telling her about him? Well, planning to, rather.”

“His name… His major…” Yuuri bit their lip. “I might’ve gotten around to showing Mari a picture of him.” Yuuri shrugged.

> Chris: A few more days and I get to meet you!!!
> 
> Chris: I’m so excited!

“What do you think she would have done if you told her that it’s your crush, Victor Nikiforov?” Khoudia raised her hands to her face and punctuated Victor’s name with jazz hands. Yuuri shrugged. “Do you think she’d believe you?”

“She might just laugh and say ‘try again.’”

“I see where you get your wit from,” Khoudia said and sucked her teeth. “Move up.” They moved up the line; they were almost at the register with two people ahead of them.

“It’s not the only thing I get from Mari,” Yuuri said. Khoudia snickered. Mari has taught them many things, and dry wit is not the only thing. 

“If she taught you social skills, I think you need to tell her that she did a bad job.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and looked at their phone. They should probably get back to Chris’ message.

> : I’m excited to meet you too
> 
> Chris: Aaah! What hotel are you staying at? I’ll come and visit you.

“I kind of want a cake pop,” Yuuri audibly mused. “Should I get a cake pop?”

“Yes,” she said. “Get the cake pop.”

“What flavor?”

“Chocolate, duh,” she said. Yuuri texted Chris as they nodded.

> : I’ll be at the Gostinitsa Arena
> 
> Chris: And I will be there, too!
> 
> Chris: This is fate.
> 
> Chris: We were meant to meet. This is proof.

Yuuri looked up at the overhead menu. They sell green tea lattes here, and Yuuri had to scoff. Then they looked through their text messages. Victor had sent them a picture of their skates.

> : Aah, your skates

Yuuri put their phone away. Victor’s probably asleep right now. Then Yuuri started to think. It was about 2am in Japan when Mari called. Victor’s probably on their way back to America now. Yuuri was overjoyed. And also anxious. Wednesday is fast approaching.

#

**(Monday, 23 November 2015 – 6:36pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Yuuri!” Phichit called from the kitchen. He decided to work on dinner tonight; Yuuri wanted to pack. They still weren’t fully unpacked from the Bompard, so they didn’t have too much to do. But still. They were unpacking and repacking – wash, rinse, repeat. “Yuuri,” Phichit said. Yuuri looked at the door; they didn’t hear Phichit’s footsteps this time.

“What?” Yuuri extended their left leg to their front.

“I keep trying to ask you if you’re going to eat dinner with me tonight, but you’re not responding.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured. They played with the zipper of their suitcase. “What are you making for dinner?”

“Stir-fry,” Phichit said. “So, will you be eating with me tonight?” Yuuri nodded. “Ah, I’m being the afforded the privilege of eating with a Grand Prix medalist.”

“Phichit–”

“I know, I know, not yet. But you will be. And I’m so excited!” Phichit gushed. “What should I make you when you come back from the Rostelecom Cup?” Yuuri was tempted to say “katsudon,” but didn’t want to burden Phichit with the task of making it like their mother. “I was thinking chicken marsala and angel hair pasta with broccoli and garlic. I’m not sure if I want to make dessert yet, though.”

“Phichit, you don’t have to do that.”

“Too late. I’ve thought it, and I’m going to – what’s that thing Khoudia and Adé say? Speak it into existence?” There was a silence. “No matter the case, I’m going to do it.” Yuuri shrugged and looked at their fingers. “Are you done packing?”

“I’m not done.”

“Now, when you say ‘not done’ do you mean ‘not done’ as in ‘haven’t finished packing’ or ‘not done’ as in ‘I’m still engaging in my rituals’?”

“I think it’s the second one.”

“So you’re done then,” Phichit said. “Come, I want you to read the directions to me as I cook.”

“Is this another All Recipes recipe?” Yuuri asked. Phichit nodded. “Fine. As long as I don’t have to touch the food.” Yuuri got up from their spot on the floor and dusted themselves off. They followed Phichit into the kitchen and stood by the counter. Phichit gave Yuuri his phone. “Is this the recipe?” Phichit nodded and went back to the pan. He let his hand hover over the surface of the pan. “That honestly terrifies me when you do that.” Phichit had the rice going already.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I know you do, but it still scares me. I’m afraid that something might happen.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to my hand,” Phichit said, trying to assure his partner in crime. “Now, start reading.” So Yuuri read the first of the directions to Phichit.

“Did you do that already?” Phichit nodded. “Okay,” Yuuri said. Then they read the second direction. “Did you do that?”

“No,” Phichit said. “It’s three tablespoons, right?” Yuuri nodded. Phichit measured out three tablespoons and added that to the pan. Then he added the peas, broccoli, and diced peppers to the pan. “Do I cover this?” Yuuri nodded. Phichit covered the pan. “What about the heat?” Yuuri looked at the directions.

“Medium-high for four minutes.”

“Time it.” Yuuri went to Phichit’s timer and set it for four minutes. Phichit went to stir the rice. “What now?” Yuuri read the third direction. Phichit went to the garlic cloves and minced them with ease. Phichit usually moved around the kitchen like he was in control of everything. “Has it been four minutes yet?” Yuuri shook their head. “How was your day today, ma poupée?”

“Kind of boring. But I saw Khoudia today, so that helped.”

“You saw Khoudia on campus?” Phichit was shocked. You could very rarely catch her on campus. Especially on a Monday. “Did she go to class?”

“No, she came to the library and found me,” Yuuri said. “I think she was avoiding her French class.” Khoudia avoids her French class for an entirely different reason compared to Yuuri. She speaks French fluently, but she speaks Senegambian French. She took French because she thought it would be an easy class, but her professor insists that her French is always incorrect. Always. Even when she gives a one-word answer. When Khoudia does go to her French class, she makes sure to be extra petty and provide the most African French answers. That’s probably why she keeps getting Cs in her French class.

“Damn, I thought she would, you know, go to her French class and be compliant.” Phichit checked the fire and returned to stir the rice.

“It’s Khoudia,” Yuuri reminded him. “She said Adeola was being annoying, so she had to leave.”

“And come to campus,” Phichit said. “The library of all places.”

“I was just as surprised as you.”

“So what did you two do?”

“We went to this café across the street for hot chocolate. Khoudia said that it’s great.” Phichit nodded. The timer sounded. “Clear the pan.” Phichit nodded and did that. “Add half of the beef and garlic for up to two minutes.” Phichit nodded and did that, too. “Time it?” Phichit nodded; Yuuri set the timer for two minutes.

“And you trust her?” Phichit laughed. “She thinks we’re gross for drinking aloe water. You can’t trust her judgment.” Yuuri laughed. “You have an appointment tomorrow with Luzia and Noêmia, right?”

“I do. I have so much to tell them.” Yuuri got on the counter. “I can’t wait until everything is back to normal. I miss seeing Luzia once a week.”

“I could imagine,” Phichit said. “Schedule changes aren’t the easiest on you. Hopefully, once the Grand Prix is over, we can live normally again.” Phichit rechecked the fire and stir-fried the meat and garlic. “And yes, poupée, I mean once the Grand Prix is over.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. The timer sounded.

“Alright, now take the beef in the pan out and add the rest of the beef and garlic.” Phichit nodded and did as Yuuri said. “Do you have the stir fry sauce?” Phichit pointed to the counter by the fridge. “You’re prepared.”

“I made it this morning.” Phichit mixed the beef. Then he added the meat and vegetables and incorporated the stir-fry sauce. “I’ve wanted this stir-fry, and I decided to make it, finally.” Yuuri nodded. “Poupée,” Phichit said, “I know I told you that you wouldn’t have to do anything, but can you check the rice?” Yuuri got off of the counter and went to the stove eye. They uncovered the rice and looked at it. “Grab a fork and see if it’s done.” Yuuri did as Phichit asked. “Is it done?” They nodded. “Turn off the eye.” Yuuri turned off the stove eye and fluffed the rice. “Thank you, baby,” Phichit said.

“No problem.” Phichit added the crushed red pepper to the stir-fry and mixed it one more time.

“I’m glad that you’re going to eat with me tonight,” Phichit admitted. Yuuri smiled. They’re glad that they’re eating tonight, too.

#


	39. Hot on the Heels of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's back and he's here to watch Yuuri draw.

#

**(Tuesday, 24 November 2015 – 1** **2:50pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

After Yuuri had eaten yesterday, they realized that they needed to iron their clothes and costumes. Then they realized that they still need to gather their necessities. Phichit offered to help them after they ate dinner; Phichit is such a pure, wholesome light being. Tomorrow, Yuuri reminded themselves that they’re going to get their medicine refilled and check their equipment. This time Yuuri didn’t have a meltdown while they were packing.

But today, Yuuri was waiting to see their therapist. “Yuuri?” Luzia stepped to the middle of the entrance of the waiting room. She was wearing a brown turtleneck. She smiled when she saw Yuuri. “Long time no see,” she said. Yuuri got up and approached her to follow her. "You have to tell me about your event." They walked to her office. She got in her chair, and Yuuri looked around. She has a new tchotchke on her desk: a tiny, tinsel Christmas tree. Yuuri looked at it. “Do you like it?” She asked. “It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but the unit wanted to get the decorating out of the way.” Yuuri nodded. “Do you celebrate?”

“Yes, but I haven’t done anything Christmassy in recent years,” Yuuri said.

“You can touch it if you want,” she said. Yuuri eyed the small Christmas tree. They picked it up tentatively, taking note of the feeling of the tinsel on their hands. Then they put it on their head. Luzia smiled. “I’m glad you like my tree, Yuuri.” Yuuri smiled. “So, tell me about the Bompard. How was it? Did you meet new people? Did you have to use your coping skills?”

“The Bompard wasn’t all that bad. I placed second.” Luzia cheered. “And I met two of Phichit’s friends. They were nice.” She cheered again. “And I hallucinated on the second day that I was there.” Luzia leaned forward in her chair. “I don’t know where it came from, but it was very persistent. It made showering difficult.” Luzia made a face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, but we’re going to have to discuss that.” She folded her hands and put them on her desk. “But continue talking. We’ll discuss that once you’re done.”

“It was the Thursday of the event.” Luzia nodded and stayed silent. "I had woken up, and I heard chatter in my ears. Sometimes one of the voices would start screaming." Luzia nodded again. “I had to ask my sister to keep texting me so I can focus on something that isn’t the voices.”

“Good, I’m glad you reached out to someone who can listen to you,” Luzia said. “How is your sister?”

“She’s fine. She’s still working at the _onsen_.” Yuuri took the tiny Christmas tree off of their head and placed it back in its spot. "But she was acting weird when I talked to her. She wanted to talk about death, and that's not like her." Luzia nodded. “When I confronted her about it, she was very avoidant.” Luzia nodded. “She said that she wanted to tell me something important, but she would never tell me what. Now I know how Victor feels when I say ‘we need to talk’ but refuse to give him any hints.”

“And how is Victor?”

“He’s good. I saw him before he went to his event.” Luzia nodded. “I still haven’t told him that I’m a figure skater, though.” Luzia pursed her lips. “You want to discuss that, too, don’t you?” She nodded. “Can I pick what we discuss first?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Let’s get the difficult one out of the way,” Yuuri said. “Oh, wait, before I begin, Victor’s my boyfriend now.” Luzia nodded. She smiled but kept it brief. 

“I’m glad you said that. Now I can say this,” Luzia said; Yuuri nodded, “You’re sabotaging the relationship.” Yuuri deadpanned. “You’re unintentionally doing things you know that would jeopardize the relationship you’re forging.”

“I never expected this to happen. I never expected Victor to be…”

“Say it.”

“Romantically interested in me. In any way.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it’s me!” Yuuri exclaimed. "Why would he be interested in me? I go to therapy. I barely talk – he has to drag words out of me. I have the personality of a rock. Except when it comes to art. Because then I'm a rock with googly eyes." Luzia chuckled and covered her mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m just thinking of rocks with googly eyes.” She composed herself. “Continue, continue.”

"I'm not that interesting of a person. Or a good person for that matter," Yuuri muttered. “I’ve been secretive about myself and what I do since I’ve met him, and the guilt is gnawing away at me.” Yuuri sighed. "He has these ideals of me, and I can't live up to any of them. I mean, I can satisfy him physically, but that's about it."

“Not telling him about what you do doesn’t make you a bad person,” Luzia said. “But what have I said about avoidance?” She paused. “It doesn’t make the problem go away. Ever. You’re just putting it off until the anxiety surrounding it becomes even more unbearable than the anxiety you were trying to avoid.” She reached for her purple glitter pen. “You’re going to stop avoiding this. Right now.” Luzia reached down at her printer and took out a blank sheet of paper. “I would very much like it if you could brainstorm things to tell Victor about you figure skating.” She handed Yuuri the pen. It was warm. “I won’t look at you as you write. Let me know when you’re done.”

So Yuuri started to jot down ideas. Their mind couldn't offer any panaceas, but it did provide a few suggestions. 

“Yuuri,” Luzia said, “when you said that he has ideals of you that you can’t live up to, what do you mean?”

Yuuri didn’t look up from their paper. “I think he expects… I don’t know, cute, normal boyfriend stuff.” Yuuri sucked their teeth. “I don’t know how to give him that.” They looked at the sentence they were halfway through with writing. "So, I guess that's why I keep doing things that might jeopardize the relationship."

Luzia nodded. “Yuuri, be honest: Do you want this relationship?”

Yuuri looked at her like she had three heads. It was a perplexing question to them. “Of course I do,” they said.

“Then act like it,” she said. “Part of what’s on your treatment plan is to identify unproductive behavioral patterns and make the necessary moves to change them.” She pulled out another pen; this one was gold. “If it’s okay with you, I would like to discuss the ones I’ve noticed – and the ones you’ve noticed, as well – and find ways to alter them.” Yuuri nodded. “Are you done?” Yuuri nodded again.

“Before we begin,” Yuuri said, “I wanted to tell you that I came out to my sister yesterday.”

“Oh? How did that go?”

“She was accepting of it.” Yuuri bit their lip. “I said that I want Victor to meet my family… I’d be okay with him meeting my family.” Then they looked at their fingers. “Also, Phichit wants to have a chat with Victor.” Luzia nodded. “But Phichit wants to have a chat with everyone.” Yuuri passed the paper to Luzia. “You can look now.” She took the paper and read it.

“Yuuri, why is this one a block of Japanese?” Yuuri stayed silent. “You have to tell him in a language that he understands. You know, like English.”

“Please don’t make me do this,” Yuuri whispered.

“No, no, you have to do it. You can’t keep running from this.” She pointed to the block of Japanese. “Rewrite that. In English.” Yuuri did as Luzia asked and added a bit to it. “Are you done?” Yuuri nodded and gave Luzia the sheet of paper.

“It’s not very good.”

“What do you mean?” She asked. “It’s sweet and to the point.” She gave the paper back to Yuuri. "‘Victor, I'm a figure skater, and I have been for years. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I could never find the perfect time to tell you. I'm sorry that I hadn't told you sooner.'" Yuuri picked up the tiny, tinsel tree. “Do you want to practice it on me?” Yuuri nodded.

And so Yuuri practiced their statement on Luzia until they felt that it was right. Once they did that, they started to deconstruct Yuuri’s comments on why they're ‘unsuitable' for Victor, their unproductive behaviors, and their hallucinations. The session was emotion-heavy and filled with awkward silences. That’s why they were glad when the session was over; they wouldn't have to deal with the deafening silence.

But they made headway in session today. That counted for something. Now Yuuri was in the waiting room again, waiting for Noêmia.

#

**(Tuesday, 24 November 2015 – 3:15pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was in their room, journaling about their session today. Despite being thrown face-first into their pool of anxieties, they were glad that Luzia had them figure out what they were going to say. The hard part was complete; now they have to do the harder part: telling Victor. They know that they still want to tell him in person and that they want to tell him in public. But not too public. Somewhere where they can be afforded privacy yet also a place where it would be risky to cause a scene. Yuuri doubted that Victor would create a scene, but they didn't want to risk it. 

> Victor: My sunshine
> 
> Victor: I’m home
> 
> Victor: I’ve missed you so much

Yuuri smiled and looked back at their journal. They should mention that Victor’s back.

> : I’ve missed you too
> 
> Victor: I want to see you as soon as possible
> 
> Victor: What are you doing right now?
> 
> : Journaling

Yuuri closed their journal and left it on the desk. If Victor wants to see them “as soon as possible,” they should start getting dressed. Maybe Yuuri could tell Victor about this tonight. Maybe, if they played their cards right, they could tell him without Victor hating them. Perhaps this wouldn't destroy their already fragile relationship. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

> Victor: Maybe you could take a break from journaling and see me?
> 
> Victor: Or I can come over and see you.
> 
> : It all depends on what you want to do
> 
> Victor: I’d like to come over then.
> 
> Victor: May I?

Yuuri quickly texted Phichit to ask him. They said that they were going to stay late today because they wanted to get some last-minute Chemistry tutoring and do their art history paper. Phichit gave his blessing, and Yuuri rushed to tell Victor.

> : You can come over.
> 
> Victor: Nice. I'll just put my stuff down, and I'll be right over.

Yuuri took deep breaths and decided to put their journal in their carry-on bag. They felt lightheaded; Victor would be stepping foot in their home to do things with them.

> : What are we going to do?
> 
> Victor: Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.

Yuuri looked at their phone. What _does_ Victor want to do? Yuuri was at a loss. They've already gone on two dates and messed around. Has Victor mentioned this whim before? Yuuri couldn't remember, and they feel bad for not remembering something that seems crucial.

> Victor: Get your graphics tablet ready.

Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief. Victor just wants to watch Yuuri draw.

> : I will.
> 
> : Do you want something to eat?
> 
> : My roommate made stir fry last night.

Yuuri got their Wacom and moved it and their laptop into the living room. If Victor said that he didn’t want stir fry, they could make him something else. “Or _give_ him something else,” they thought. They rolled their eyes at their thought and checked their phone.

> Victor: I’m not hungry.
> 
> : How about something to drink?
> 
> Victor: Does your presence count as a beverage?

Yuuri looked at their phone and rolled their eyes again. Then they laughed.

> : …Maybe?
> 
> Victor: Good because I plan on drinking you up.

Yuuri laughed harder. Then they decided that they should straighten up before Victor arrived. Victor might ask for a tour of the apartment, and Yuuri didn’t want to show Victor a messy house. So they went into the bedroom and started to make Phichit’s bed. Phichit doesn’t straighten up his bed when he wakes up. By the time Yuuri was done, Phichit’s bed had looked presentable. Then Yuuri made his bed again and fluffed his pillows. Then Yuuri swept the room three times. The desk was fine, and so was the dresser. But then Yuuri started to rearrange the Sailor Moon and Rose of Versailles statuettes that were on the dresser.

After Yuuri got the statuettes the way they wanted them, they set about straightening up the living room. Phichit had cleaned the bathroom and kitchen on Saturday morning. All Yuuri had to do was sweep that and spray air freshener in the bathroom. Yuuri swept the living room three times and cleaned the kitchen twice. They swept the bathroom twice, sprayed some Febreeze, and closed that door. Then they closed the entrance to the bedroom. 

Then Yuuri heard a knock at the door. They hadn’t even had the chance to straighten themselves up; they cursed themselves for taking time to fix the statuettes. They weren’t important, but Yuuri fixed them anyway. “Yuuri?” It’s Victor; he knocked again. Yuuri dashed to the door and opened it, trying to maintain an air of casualty. “My Yura," he said. He kissed Yuuri. Yuuri had to remind themselves to breathe, but they couldn’t help but forget how to do something so automatic when Victor’s lips are on theirs. Yuuri pulled Victor into their arms and held them.

“I’ve missed you,” Yuuri said when they finally pulled away. “Come in.” Yuuri stepped to the side and let Victor in.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Victor said. He took off his Timbs and placed them in the corner. Yuuri had a pair of bunny slippers waiting for him. Victor smiled. He sat close to the middle of the sofa, next to Yuuri. “I can’t believe you’re going to let me watch you draw. I’m so excited!” Yuuri smiled internally. “Do you have any ideas on what you want to draw?”

“Not yet,” Yuuri said. They were looking at a blank Photoshop page. Victor looked at Photoshop and looked at Yuuri look at Photoshop. “I might draw something from my sketchbook.”

“Would that make drawing easier?”

“It’d make finding inspiration easier.” Yuuri placed their hands on their knees. “Hold on.” Yuuri got up and went into their carry-on bag for their sketchbook. It was under their copy of Crime and Punishment. Yuuri came back; Victor looked up from his phone. “Texting Chris?” Victor nodded. Yuuri sat down and opened their sketchbook. They slowly turned the pages, absorbing the sketches.

“I have a suggestion,” Victor said as they looked over Yuuri’s shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Draw a normal self-portrait,” they said. Yuuri laughed heartily. “I’m being serious.”

“I’m sure you are,” Yuuri said. They looked at one more sketch and closed their sketchbook. Yuuri picked up the stylus and started to make the top of the outline for the head.

“What are you doing?”

“Drawing, duh,” Yuuri said. “Pay attention.” Yuuri went into full-on serious mode as they refined the head shape.

“I’ve noticed that you’re more short-spoken than usual when focusing on something.”

“Am I now?” Yuuri started to draw the lower half of their skull.

“Yes,” Victor said. “What are you drawing?” Victor looked intently at the head. “Well, planning on drawing.”

“I’m going to take your suggestion and draw a normal self-portrait,” Yuuri said. “I’ve never done one digitally before.” Victor nodded. “Are you prepared for this to be bad?” Yuuri asked, letting their slight excitement shine through. They were smiling.

“It’s not going to be bad,” Victor said. “It’s going to be great. I’m certain of it.”

“Why are you so certain?” Yuuri asked. “Most of my self-portraits are bad.”

“Yuuri, why are you lying?” Those words struck a chord in Yuuri, and they started to tremble. “Despite your other self-portraits being weird, they’re nowhere near bad.” Yuuri looked out the lines that they made for the eyes, nose, mouth, and hairline. “What are those lines for?”

“Those lines mark where I’m going to draw my eyes and mouth and the like.” Victor nodded. “Any other questions?”

“What is the purpose of the layers?” Victor asked.

“It’s one thing stacked on top of another.” Yuuri made a new layer. “I use them to organize the sections I want to work with. The head is on a different layer from the lines.” Victor nodded and yawned. “Are you tired?”

“Very.”

“You shouldn’t have come if you’re tired,” Yuuri chastised. “You could’ve gone to bed.”

“But I wanted to see you.” Victor yawned again. “So here I am.”

“Here you are,” Yuuri said. They looked at the current layer. “Am I missing anything?” They asked themselves. Then they made a line to denote where their eyebrows will be. “These are for the eyebrows,” Yuuri told Victor. He nodded and yawned again. “Do you want coffee?”

“Yuuri, I’m fine. Keep drawing.”

“You need coffee,” Yuuri said. They placed their Wacom on the coffee table and got up. “Let’s take a break. You need coffee.” Yuuri stretched and reached their hands towards the ceiling.

“Fine, I’ll get coffee.” Yuuri smiled and walked over to the coats. They put on their coat and Docs and waited for Victor to put on their shoes and coat. They were ready now. Yuuri opened the door and waited for Victor to step out. They held out their hand as they locked the door. They ran into Yuuri’s judgmental neighbor when they were stepping out of the front door. Out of habit, Yuuri said “hello” and “have a nice day” to her despite her never responding to their salutations and valedictions. “Who was that?” Victor asked.

“Neighbor,” Yuuri said. They stopped at a light. “Do you want deli coffee or café coffee?”

“Café coffee,” Victor said. “Does your neighbor usually not respond when you speak?”

“I’m used to her silence.” Yuuri put their free hand in their pocket. “She doesn’t speak because she doesn’t like Phichit and me,” they casually said.

“Why not?” Victor asked.

“Phichit and I…” Yuuri started. "There was an encounter that she misconstrued. Phichit explained the situation to her, but she didn’t believe us at all. Instead, she just started lecturing us about being sinners.” Yuuri smiled. “After that, she just never spoke to us again. I think she was too repulsed by what she thought was happening that she couldn’t even grasp the fact that that wasn’t what happened at all.”

“Well, what happened?” Victor asked. Yuuri started to chuckle.

“Okay, so Phichit was introducing me to this musical." Victor nodded. "He was showing me a character and… I started moaning." Victor busted out in laughter. "And I was moaning really loud because several neighbors heard us – well, heard me." Yuuri bit their lip. They looked over at Victor; he was fighting a laugh. “Phichit explained to people that he wasn't sleeping with me – that he was showing me a character – but no one believed him. I felt so bad. Not bad enough to explain it to them myself, but bad.”

“Oh my God,” Victor said. He finally let himself laugh. “That’s great!”

“Is it? Is it really?” Yuuri said. They started to walk again.

“It is, really,” Victor said. Yuuri felt their phone buzz twice. Yuuri checked their texts with their free hand.

> Phichit: I’m staying a bit later to work on my art history paper
> 
> Phichit: How’s drawing coming along?
> 
> : Victor challenged me to draw a regular self-portrait, so I'm doing that
> 
> : But he's tired, so I'm taking him to get coffee
> 
> Phichit: I half expected you to say “take him to bed”
> 
> Phichit: I was going to shame you

Yuuri laughed. Victor looked at him, sleepy-eyed yet dotingly. “Phichit won’t be home for a while,” Yuuri said. “He’s working on the art history assignment.” Victor nodded.

“Is his professor also Professor Heiner?”

“I… don’t think so,” Yuuri said. “I think he said that his professor is Capezio, but I am not sure."

“Have you had that professor before?” Victor asked.

“Once, when I was a freshman.” Yuuri bit their lip. They stopped at another light. “They were nice enough, I guess, but I didn’t stay in class long enough to know that for sure.”

“Why didn’t you stay in class? That seems unlike you,” Victor said.

“It’s a long story, but also not really.” Yuuri looked up at the light. "In my freshman year, my anxiety was horrible, and my classes would set off my anxiety, so I stopped going to class." Yuuri bit their lip again.

“All of them?”

“All of them,” Yuuri said. "I felt terrible for not going to class – my professors were all so nice – but I couldn't focus on anything they were saying without feeling like everyone was looking at me and being unable to breathe." 

“Do you feel like that when you go to class now?” Yuuri shook their head. “I’m glad,” Victor said. “And I’m glad that you told me this.” There was silence. “Have you been too anxious to interact with me?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said. “I didn’t – and still don’t – understand how someone so great could find enjoyment with someone like me.” Yuuri sucked their teeth. “The novelty of mystery wears off after a while. So does the novelty of many of my ‘endearing’ traits.” Victor rolled his eyes, but Yuuri didn’t catch that. “I’m trying to figure out why you’re still here.”

“Why are you acting like you don’t want me here? Stop trying to ward me off,” Victor said. “Let me love and support you.” Victor looked at his feet. “Do you want me here?”

“Of course I do,” Yuuri said.

"Then act like it. Because I want to be here," Victor said. "You mean a lot to me, and it hurts to think that you don't regard me the same way."

“I do,” Yuuri said. Yuuri waited until they made it across the street to touch Victor’s face. Their lithe yet freezing, calloused fingers touched Victor’s cheek. “I’m not good at wording things, but trust me when I say that I do.”

“Why aren’t you wearing gloves?” Victor asked.

“Do not make this about me forgetting my gloves,” Yuuri said. They withdrew their hand from Victor’s cheek. “Let’s go get your coffee.” They continued walking. “Do you want to drink it at the café?”

“I can walk and drink coffee,” Victor said. “I want to continue watching you draw. And maybe you can give me a tour later.” Yuuri nodded. Then their phone buzzed. “Phichit?” Yuuri nodded.

> Phichit: Guess who I ran into today?
> 
> : Who?
> 
> Phichit: Olivia!
> 
> : Oic.
> 
> : How is she?
> 
> Phichit: I’ll call you.

“He’s going to call,” Yuuri said. Their phone rang, and he picked up. "Yeah?"

“So Olivia is back,” Phichit said. Olivia was a pre-med student that used to be a frequent rink attendee. In the middle of her sophomore semester, she decided to "find herself" and go to Paris. It was a confusing situation for everyone at the rink, and they had all agreed amongst themselves to never speak of her. “She’s back from Paris.”

“I gathered that,” Yuuri said. “Is she going to come back to Wayne?”

“I don’t know,” Phichit said. “I haven’t had the chance to flesh out a conversation with her. I only saw her briefly.” Yuuri nodded. “She asked me for Ciao Ciao’s number, though. I think she might be planning to continue skating.”

“Isn’t she 25 now?” Yuuri wondered. “Do you think he’ll take her back?” Victor was looking on in amazement as they talked to Phichit about this person.

“She seems hopeful that he will,” Phichit said. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way home. I still have to work on this paper.”

“Alright, lapinou,” Yuuri said. Phichit said “I love you” and hung up. Yuuri put their phone away. They were silent.

Victor looked at Yuuri, examining their face for a hint of what’s going on. He gave up and decided to say, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Yuuri said.

“What happened?” Victor asked. Yuuri was silent. “Yuuri.”

“Someone I know came back recently,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded and motioned for Yuuri to continue.

“Do you miss them?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri muttered. “We’re here.” Yuuri stopped walking and opened the door. Yuuri stood behind Victor in line. “I’m not very sure how I feel about them coming back. I’m actually concerned, more or less,” they muttered.

“Why are you concerned?”

“I’m concerned that I don’t know how I’m going to react when I finally see them,” Yuuri said. They fell back into silence. They were thinking about the last time they saw Olivia: it was Christmas Eve, and Olivia had told Yuuri that they were going to Paris to figure things out. They hadn’t seen or heard from her since then.

“Why are you bothered by this?” Victor asked. “Did you care for them?” Yuuri bit their lip, trying to remove a flake of dried skin. They stayed silent. They looked out of the door and focused on a woman and her dog. She looked like Olivia with her long, light brown hair and green eyes. "Do you want to talk about them right now?" 

“I need time to process this,” Yuuri said. “I hadn’t seen them in so long. I thought they’d never come back.” Yuuri sighed. “I’ll tell you about them eventually.”

“Can I ask if they were a past partner?” Victor asked.

“Not exactly,” Yuuri said. They nudged Victor’s back. “Order.”

“Do you want anything?” Yuuri shook their head. Victor placed his order and stepped to the side. Yuuri stood weakly next to him. They couldn’t get the idea of Olivia being back out of their head. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Yuuri took out their phone. Phichit had texted.

> Phichit: She came back to find me.
> 
> Phichit: [has sent an attachment]

It was of Olivia. Her hair was longer, and it seemed that her eyes had gotten greener – if that was even possible. She was wearing a black skull cap. She looked like she was beaming in that space. Yuuri sighed and put their phone away. They leaned on Victor, and Victor threw their arm around their back.

“I’m so glad I have you,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled. “What do you want to do after I finish drawing?”

“I’d like a tour,” they said. “And then I’d like to watch you do something else.” The barista came out and gave Victor their coffee. “What else do you do?” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand.

“We can watch an anime together,” Yuuri suggested. “Have you watched Cowboy Bebop?”

“I have no clue what a Cowboy Bebop is,” Victor said. He opened the door with his elbow.

Yuuri smiled. “Good, because you’re going to learn what Cowboy Bebop is tonight.” Yuuri’s fingers were cold and interlaced with Victor's, but they were interlaced with Victor's, and it made the cold worth it. "I think you'll like it. It's really story-driven." They stopped at a light. "Or we can watch Samurai Champloo.”

“What’s that?”

“That is also an anime.”

“And what was the first one called?” Victor asked.

“Cowboy Bebop,” Yuuri said.

“Does it have cowboys in it?” Yuuri’s thoughts came to a pause. They said “kind… of?” but they were still unsure if intergalactic bounty hunters would be considered cowboys. “Let’s watch that,” Victor said. “But what is a Bebop? Why are they cowboys?”

"I can't tell you, or else I'll have to explain the whole show," Yuuri said. “It’s a really good anime.” They started to walk again. “Trust me on this.”

“Does your sister watch that?”

“She does,” Yuuri said. “Right now, she’s reading Chōyaku Hyakunin Isshu.”

“So you _read_ anime?”

“No,” Yuuri said. “You watch anime. You _read_ manga. Some mangas are made into animes, but some animes don’t come from a manga.” Victor’s face was blank. “Did I lose you? Where did I lose you?”

“Some mangas aren’t animes,” Victor said, processing the statement. “But some animes don’t come from a manga.” He was confused. “What does this mean?”

“Sometimes there isn’t a manga or a light novel that an anime comes from. Sometimes there’s just the anime.” Victor nodded.

“Does Cowboy Bebop have a manga?”

“Yes. The manga usually comes before an anime.”

“Have you read the manga?” Yuuri nodded. Victor took a sip of his coffee. “Do you usually read mangas?”

“I do,” Yuuri said. “I can show you some of my mangas. The better ones are at home, though.” Yuuri bit their lip. “I didn’t bother to bring them with me; I had to make sure that they were safe.”

“You think they wouldn’t be safe in Detroit?”

“Can’t be too careful,” Yuuri said. “Plus, when I dormed, my roommates were weird, and it– it was just for the best.” Yuuri sucked their teeth.

“What were your dorm mates like?” Yuuri stopped walking. Victor turned around and looked back at them. Victor had a confused look on his face.

“They were…” Yuuri’s voice trailed off. They haven’t been asked about their dorm mates in what seemed to be ages. “They were…” Yuuri walked towards Victor. “They were something else,” they said. They held out their hand for Victor to grab; he grabbed it. “I learned things,” they briefly said. “Things that I am not proud of knowing about.” Yuuri looked at Victor’s face; he seemed to be genuinely confused. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Just know that I don’t like Cheerios, and I will burst into tears at the sight of a tea cozy.” Victor made a face. “I’m being serious.”

“I’m sure you _are_ , but Cheerios and tea cozies?” Victor questioned. Yuuri nodded. “What happened with the Cheerios and tea cozies?”

"I still don't quite understand what I witnessed in those days." They started walking again. "I don't talk about my dorming days much." Those days were complicated for Yuuri. Extremely complex. So much so that they actively avoid talking about it when confronted about it.

They walked back to the apartment in silence.

“Are you feeling less tired now?” Yuuri took off their Docs. Victor nodded. “Good,” Yuuri said. Once Yuuri got their coat back off, they sat down and waited for Victor to take his place next to them. Victor remained silent, and the silence started to bother Yuuri. They stopped drawing again. “You’re not okay, are you?”

“I’m fine. What’s wrong with you?”

“Several things, but that isn’t the point,” Yuuri said. “Something seems to be bothering you. What is it?”

“Tell me about this person. The one that came back.” Yuuri looked at their lover’s face. They seemed to be uncertain. “What were they like? Why did they leave?”

“They were…” Yuuri lost their train of thought. They thought about Khoudia’s analysis of Olivia and how she left Khoudia heartbroken. “They leave a particular taste in your mouth,” they said, hoping that that answer would satisfy him. “They left because they wanted to find themselves.” They looked at their Wacom. “I guess they’ve found what they were looking for.” They brushed their hair out of their face and looked at Victor. “You’re not jealous, are you?” Victor made a face. Yuuri stroked Victor’s face.

“I’m not jealous.” Yuuri poked Victor’s face. “Fine, maybe I’m a _little_ jealous.” Yuuri smiled and kissed Victor. 

“They don’t mean as much to me as you do,” Yuuri said. They picked up their Wacom again. They left off at drawing their eyes. They had made a circle on their forehead, and Victor hadn't noticed it. "I don't plan on seeing them anytime soon if that's what you're worried about." 

“I’m not worried.”

“Good,” Yuuri said. “Are you feeling better now?” Victor nodded. “Good.” Yuuri finished up the dreaded ‘other eye’ and started to draw their nose. Between Victor’s periods of silence and Yuuri’s sense of impending doom, they finished the self-portrait after what felt like forever.

“It looks just like you.”

“It does,” they said. “But it’s missing something.” Yuuri put the tip of their pen to their mouth. They started to think of the only two lyrics from a song. They wrote them in Japanese in the blank space surrounding their head. “That’s better, I think.”

“What does it say?” So Yuuri told him. “What does it mean?” So Yuuri told him. “I don’t understand.”

“It’ll come up again,” they said. “Do you want to hear the song?”

“It’s from a song?” Yuuri nodded and hesitated to give Victor their phone. “What’s the problem?” Victor asked. His hand was close enough to take Yuuri’s phone right out of their hand.

“The song is kind of creepy,” Yuuri said. “Plus, I think that you would require an introduction to industrial music and performance art before you listen to it.” Yuuri looked at the phrase and placed their phone back on the coffee table. “Second thought, how about we _not_ listen to it?”

“What’s so wrong with it that you don’t want to listen to it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Yuuri said. “But it’s not something for – I don’t know – normal people.”

“I’m normal?” Victor incredulously asked. Yuuri remained silent. “I don’t know where you got that idea from. The song can’t be so terrible that it’d scare me off.” Yuuri looked at Victor. “I listen to Béla Bartók. It can’t be that outlandish.”

“If you say so,” Yuuri said. They reached for their phone again and went to their music app. They selected “Hot on the Heels of Love” and let it play. They placed their phone on their lap and looked at their art. They didn't have the feeling that something was missing, but there was something off about it. It was probably because it was just something ‘normal.' They didn’t give themselves one eye (or three), make their head a cinnamon roll, or have flowers come out of their facial orifices. It was just their face, as it appears right now.

#


	40. Easy Motion Tourist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're off to the Rostelecom Cup!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I'm going to come back to this fic to do two things:  
> a) cringe;  
> b) see if I still understand my thought processes behind the title cards.
> 
> And I'm already doing the first one with every reread I do so we're off to a good start.

#

**(Wednesday, 25 November 2015 – 5** **:20am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Victor and Yuuri were only able to watch six sessions of Cowboy Bebop before Phichit came home. Victor and Phichit exchanged niceties after Phichit’s initial freak-out; Victor almost ended up staying to have tea with Phichit, but he insisted that he needed to get to bed before he knocked out. In between sessions, Yuuri let slip that they were going to Moscow for the Rostelecom Cup. So Victor taught them how to say “hello,” “stop,” and “help” in Russian. They had hoped that they wouldn’t need to use “stop” and “help” while they were there, but Yuuri was glad to know how to at least say “hello.”

Today is the morning that Yuuri would leave, and they woke up drenched in a cold sweat. They couldn’t shake off the sense of impending doom no matter how much they stretched or how hard they scrubbed at their skin. They tried to draw the dread away, but it didn’t work either. So Yuuri sat on the sofa with a cup of honeysuckle tea and their open sketchbook.

> : Are you up yet?
> 
> Khoudia: Yeah.
> 
> Khoudia: I heard that Olivia’s back
> 
> : Phichit told you, too?
> 
> Khoudia: Yeah.

Yuuri took a sip of tea and looked around their living room. It was a little less than standard-sized. They had a small television that was sitting on top of their Xbox One, which was sitting on a second-hand television shelf. They had a soft maple wood coffee table that was in front of their dark blue sofa. To the left of the couch was a love seat that the previous occupants left; to the right was an armchair that didn’t fit with the theme Yuuri and Phichit tried to establish in their living room. By the entrance of the kitchen was a small dining table that was made of soft maple wood like its brother. There were only two seats – two seats for the two partners. On the wall near the dinner table was a large painting that Yuuri made. It was of a bouquet of orchids. Yuuri wanted to throw it out, but Phichit would allow them to do no such thing. Instead of throwing it out as Yuuri requested, he had it framed and made Yuuri put it up. Phichit felt it was an excellent piece for their quaint, little home. 

> Khoudia: I couldn’t sleep because I was so worked up over the news
> 
> Khoudia: I don’t want to be alone right now
> 
> : Understandable.
> 
> : Do you want me to come to get you?
> 
> Khoudia: Yes, please
> 
> Khoudia: I’ll keep the living room light on, and the shades are drawn

Yuuri waited until they finished their tea to put their phone on the coffee table and go to the closet by the door. They shrugged on their coat and placed their phone in their pocket. Before Victor had left – in the middle of the tour – Yuuri put their gloves in their coat pockets so they wouldn’t forget them again. They put on their boots, grabbed their keys from the hook by the door, and they were off to get Khoudia.

Khoudia lived in a house that was off of a major street. It was a roughly fifteen-minute walk away from the apartment. There were several other houses on the block and a laundromat across the street. There was a school on the block which Khoudia lived and several sorts of small eateries and three hair salons – black, African, and Dominican. Some of Khoudia’s neighbors seemed nice, and they mostly spoke Spanish. There were only three other African families on the block; they were either Senegalese, Cameroonian, or Ivorian. 

Yuuri was approaching Khoudia’s home; she had left the lights on and kept the shades drawn as she promised. Yuuri walked up the front steps and knocked. “It’s me,” they said. Khoudia looked out of the living room window. Then she went to the peephole and peered through. “Khoudia, I said that I was coming.” She unlocked the door and ushered Yuuri inside. Yuuri stood in the hallway, next to – what Yuuri presumed they were – Khoudia’s bags.

“I think we’ll need an Uber,” Khoudia said. She was partially bundled up in her lengthy, black down coat with faux fur lining the hood. “We can’t carry all my bags by ourselves.”

“Then why did you pack so much?”

“I didn’t, remember? Adeola and Fatou packed for me. And then my mom joined in because she said they were doing a bad job.”

“Couldn’t you have gone over their packing?” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Are you leaving a note for your parents?”

“Already wrote it,” she said. “And, before you ask, I already said my byes to Hadiya. I even gave her a treat when I went into the kitchen.” Yuuri nodded. Hadiya was the family cat; Khoudia loves that cat. Khoudia fixed the shades. “Are you paying for the Uber or me?” Yuuri shrugged. “If I pay for this Uber, will you pay for the one to the airport?”

“Of course,” they said. Khoudia nodded and requested one.

“They’ll be here in ten minutes.” Yuuri nodded. “Do you want a glass of grape juice?” She asked. Yuuri shook their head. “I can’t believe that Olivia’s back.”

“I know,” Yuuri muttered. “It’s so hard to believe.”

“I thought she’d never come back.” Khoudia sat on her suitcase. “I prayed that she’d never come back. She could’ve stayed in Paris for all I cared.”

“Stop lying,” Yuuri said. Khoudia weakly smiled. She looked vulnerable in this impenetrable light. Her umber brown eyes shined, seeming to be wet with tears that she despised. Her walnut-colored skin glistened from the shea butter that Khoudia religiously applied daily. She swears up and down that it will moisturize your skin into next week, but Yuuri felt that it was too heavy for them. Khoudia’s thick, African lips slightly quivered. She wants to cry, but she won’t allow herself to. Yuuri moved from their space and kissed Khoudia’s forehead. “If you want to cry, allow yourself to. It’s okay to feel things.”

“I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I was over her, you know?”

“I know, but do you ever truly get over your first love?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia sucked her teeth. “You loved her, after all.”

“So did you. And you’re fine,” Khoudia retorted.

“No, I’m not,” Yuuri said with a suck of the teeth. “If Ciao Ciao takes her back, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” There was silence. “We were better off not knowing that she was back, I think.”

“How did she even get the idea to return to skating?” Khoudia bitterly asked. “The bitch should’ve stayed gone.” Yuuri and Khoudia heard a sweet little ‘meow’ come from behind them. “Even Hadiya thinks she should’ve stayed gone.” Hadiya sauntered to Khoudia and bunted her arm. Then she meowed and bunted Khoudia’s arm again. Khoudia scratched Hadiya’s little orange head.

“Hello Hadiya,” Yuuri said. She sniffed Yuuri and bunted their arm, too. “Yes, I’ve missed you, too.” She meowed. “Yes, I’ll do my best to come over more.” Khoudia giggled; her eyes crinkled at the sides. “How many minutes?” Khoudia took out her phone and checked.

“Six.” Yuuri nodded. “Phichit told me that you were with your little boyfriend yesterday.” She nudged Yuuri’s arm and rested her face on their sleeve. “I was going to come over and ruin everything you had going on, but I had to make sure I had everything together.” She laughed – that dreadfully ugly yet currently welcome sound. “So, you’re lucky. You were safe. What did you two do yesterday?”

“Well, Victor wanted to see me as soon as he came home. So I said that he could watch me draw – he shoehorned me into allowing him to watch me draw, by the way – and he did. But then he was getting tired, so we took a break so he can get coffee. We go out for coffee. Then Phichit calls to tell me that he saw Olivia and that honestly put a damper on everything. So Victor gets his coffee, and we come back home –”

“Home,” Khoudia said.

“Yes, home. We come back home – oh, now I see why you interrupted me.” Khoudia laughed. “We come back, and Victor’s feeling on edge.”

“So you s–”

“No, I did not,” Yuuri said. “We talked about it like a normal couple.”

“Normal couple!” Khoudia said, trying to stifle her laughter. “I doubt that any relationship you’re in would be considered normal. But continue, continue.”

“As I was saying, we talked about why he was feeling on edge – it was because I was feeling on edge about Olivia. Then he just watched me draw, and something was off about my drawing. So I threw in the lyrics of ‘Hot on the Heels of Love’ to balance it all out. Then I tried to persuade Victor to not listen to it, but he wouldn’t budge. So he listened to it – I don’t think he liked it very much. Then I gave him a tour, and then we cuddled and watched Cowboy Bebop.”

“Cuddling and watching Cowboy Bebop sounds so cute, to be honest,” she said. “Did you finish it?”

“No, we only got up to episode six.” Yuuri yawned. Then Khoudia yawned. “Do you want tea when we get to the apartment?” She nodded.

“Were you drinking tea before you came to get me?” Yuuri nodded. “What kind were you drinking?”

“Honeysuckle tea.” Khoudia made a face and nodded. She seems to be approving of Yuuri’s choice in tea today. “I’ll have to wake Phichit up for class when we get back. He might freak once he sees you there.”

“Honestly, I might drop on y’all’s love seat the moment I step inside, so I think I’m going to need a rain check on the tea.” Yuuri chuckled. Khoudia pulled out her phone and checked Uber. “He’s a minute away.” She put her phone away and stood up. Khoudia and Yuuri started to take the suitcases outside; Khoudia had Yuuri wait outside with the suitcases while she got her carry-on bag and said another goodbye to Hadiya. The Uber came, and Yuuri packed Khoudia’s bags in the trunk of the car. Yuuri and Khoudia situated themselves in the car that smelled of lavender.

The streets were empty this time of morning, and, for that, Yuuri was glad. They needed another cup of tea, and Khoudia could use something that could soothe her frayed nerves. Khoudia likes green tea; Yuuri’ll fix her a cup of green tea.

They were at the apartment now, and Yuuri gave Khoudia the keys to unlock the door. She stood in front of the door, her hand on the doorknob. Once Yuuri got to the door, she opened it. “Welcome home,” she said. Yuuri smiled and pulled Khoudia’s bags next to theirs. Yuuri took off their boots and coat and went into the kitchen. Khoudia, with leisure, took off her coat and boots and laid on the love seat.

“Do you still want tea?” Yuuri asked.

“Would you really go out of your way to make me tea?”

“Well, I’m already standing,” Yuuri said. “And I’m already holding my mug so.” Khoudia nodded. “Do you want the tea I’m drinking, or do you want green tea?” Khoudia was silent. “I’m going to give you green tea.” Yuuri received no response. They stood in the kitchen, waiting for the pot of hot water to come to a gentle boil. Khoudia also, occasionally, takes honey in her tea. Yuuri peeked back into the living room; Khoudia seemed to be fast asleep now. Yuuri could afford to have an extra cup of tea.

#

**(Wednesday, 25 November 2015 – 7:49am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Wake up, nerds. You have to get to the airport,” Yuuri heard Phichit say before they were whacked with a pillow. “Wake up, Khoudia!” Phichit hit her on the head with the pillow. Khoudia forced herself up and rubbed her eyes; Yuuri was struggling to keep their head up. “You nerds were supposed to be gone nineteen minutes ago. Don’t you have to meet Ciao Ciao at eight?” Phichit checked their phone. “It takes you half an hour to get to an airport on a _good_ day. Get up!” Phichit hit Yuuri’s torso with a pillow again.

“I’m awake!”

“Good,” Phichit said. “Khoudia, get up!”

“I need to wash my face,” she said. She got up and went into the bathroom. Yuuri yawned.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Russia today,” Yuuri said. Yuuri’s phone rang; it’s Coach Cialdini. “Hello?”

“Are you on your way?” He asked.

“No, I just woke up,” Yuuri told him. They looked at the painting on the wall, focusing on the details of the petals.

“What?!” Coach Cialdini screamed. “You just woke up?! I told you and Khoudia to be ready by seven!” Yuuri nodded.

“I know. And we’re ready.” There was silence.

“What,” said Coach Cialdini. “What do you mean you two are ready? I don’t understand.”

“We’re getting ready to leave right now. We’ll see you soon.” Yuuri ended the call and looked at the entrance to the hallway. Khoudia was coming down it. “Ciao Ciao might be upset. I told him that we just woke up and he started screaming.” Khoudia chuckled. “We should get going. Ciao Ciao has probably been waiting for a while.” Khoudia yawned.

“Yeah, you two need to bounce. Right now.” Khoudia laughed. “Yes, Khoudia, I know that my usage of ‘bounce’ is hilarious, but that isn’t the point.” Phichit continued as if he already knew what Yuuri’s question would be. “My point is: get out.” Yuuri nodded and forced themselves up. They staggered over to the coats and sleepily put on their boots. Khoudia put on her coat and boots and stood by the door.

“Yuuri, unlock your phone and give it to me.” Yuuri gave Khoudia their unlocked phone, and she went to the Uber app. She requested an Uber and held on to their phone. Their phone buzzed. “Victor texted.” Yuuri was holding two of their suitcases. “I’ll hold on to your phone.”

“I’m taking the bags into the lobby,” Yuuri said. “Lapin, can you open the door for me?” Phichit nodded and opened the door. Yuuri and Phichit lived on the third floor of their seven-story building. The lobby wasn’t so much of a lobby, but a combination of a small waiting area that lacks seats but possesses a mailroom. “Thank you, lapinou,” Yuuri said.

“No problem, poupée,” Phichit said. Yuuri carried two of the suitcases to the lobby. Khoudia followed Yuuri to the lobby with their carry on bags on her shoulders. Yuuri placed the suitcases by the double doors and went back up for the other two suitcases. Yuuri came back downstairs with the other two bags and stood by their mailbox. Khoudia sat on her suitcase.

“How many minutes?”

“Seven,” Khoudia said. She gave Yuuri their phone back. “Respond to Victor’s text.”

> Victor: I’m going to miss you so much today. Have fun at the Cup. Text me when you wake up (or touch down). I love you ((sparkling heart emoji))
> 
> : I’ll miss you, too. Love you ((heart emoji))

That feeling of dread came back, and it was multiplied sevenfold. It nested in the pit of their stomach, and it crawled up their esophagus, pausing at the entrance of their mouth. It threatened to burst forward from their mouth at any moment – but now? Now it just seemed to be waiting. Yuuri wondered what it was that was making them feel so repulsive. They chalked it up to Olivia’s return, but they felt that that wasn’t the only thing causing it; it couldn’t have been the only thing causing it. It just didn’t add up.

“Are you okay?” Khoudia asked. She had her hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “You zoned out.”

“I’m just thinking,” Yuuri muttered. “I feel weird.”

“About Olivia or the Rostelecom Cup?” Yuuri shrugged; they couldn’t tell. “There’s nothing we can do about Olivia, ma raison. She’s here, and we have to live with it.” Khoudia sighed. “And, as for the Rostelecom Cup, all we have to do is skate our best and wow the judges. But I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that. I believe in you.”

“I believe in you, too,” Yuuri said as they patted Khoudia’s shoulder. She had a hat on her head; Yuuri hadn’t seen her leave her house with a hat on.

> Victor: Question, though.
> 
> : Sure.
> 
> Victor: Why are you leaving on Wednesday instead of Thursday?

Yuuri looked at their phone. They didn’t know what to say to Victor. Then they decided to check Uber. The cab is three minutes away. They showed it to Khoudia; she nodded and returned her attention to Instagram. She was messaging someone. “We should get outside. The Uber is three minutes away.” Yuuri rechecked the app. “Two minutes. Get up.” Khoudia got up and put the carry on bags on her shoulders and held the door open for Yuuri. Yuuri dragged the suitcases out in one trip, and they stood on the sidewalk. The Uber stopped directly in front of the building, and Khoudia put the carry on bags in the car and went to join Yuuri in putting the suitcases in the trunk.

“Which one of us is texting Ciao Ciao to tell him that we’re coming?” Khoudia asked as she stepped to get in the car. She slid in and opened Yuuri’s door for them. Yuuri got in and took a deep breath.

“Which one of you is Yuuri?” The driver asked. Yuuri waved at the driver. “Hello, Yuuri,” she said. “Detroit Metro Airport?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said. Khoudia yawned. “I’m still tired, too. I can’t wait until we get on board.”

“Same,” Khoudia said. “Maybe I’ll be able to get some sleep.”

“You mean you wouldn’t call dropping on my love seat ‘sleep’?” Yuuri asked. They yawned. “Because I couldn’t wake you up when I was trying to ask if you want tea.”

“And I told you that I would need to have a rain check on the tea because I might fall asleep,” Khoudia retorted.

“You were awake when I asked you if you wanted tea!”

“No, I wasn’t!” Khoudia loudly said. She took a deep breath. “Look, we are in someone’s automobile, and I refuse to have this creative discussion with you right now.” She huffed. 

“Did you just call our argument a ‘creative discussion’?”

“It’s not an argument; it’s a creative discussion.”

“What’s so creative about this?” Yuuri asked. “There is nothing creative about two nerds talking about falling asleep when being asked about tea.” Khoudia sucked her teeth. “I’m going to learn how to do that one day.”

“Mm-hm,” she said. “You keep telling yourself that.” Khoudia took out her phone and started scrolling through her Instagram feed. Yuuri looked out the window, fighting the urge to check their texts. They know that it’s just going to be the same one – or another one – from Victor. The dread in their stomach wouldn’t allow them to check their texts. So much so that they didn’t respond to any of Coach Cialdini’s.

They made it to the airport in 45 minutes with heavy traffic. Coach Cialdini was waiting at the gate.

“Why is it that every time I need to accompany you to an event, you’re late?” Khoudia yawned. “Am I boring you already?”

“No, I’m just tired,” she said, fighting another yawn. “How long have you been here, Ciao Ciao? I hope we didn’t keep you too long.” Khoudia was trying to be genial despite her simmering agitation.

“I told you two to be ready by seven o clock, and you didn’t leave the house until eight,” Coach Cialdini said.

“It’s not our fault that there was traffic,” said Khoudia.

“In our defense, we were ready since five o clock,” Yuuri said. “We just took a nap, and I forgot to set the alarm.” Khoudia yawned again. “So it’s kind of my fault. I apologize.” Coach Cialdini nodded and started walking. Khoudia and Yuuri followed behind them like they were his ducklings. Then Yuuri’s phone buzzed. They reached into their pocket, dreading what they might find.

> Olivia: Hey, baby. I’ve missed you a lot.

Yuuri looked at their phone and stopped walking.

“Yuuri?” Khoudia said. She stopped walking and returned to their space. “Did something happen? She stroked Yuuri’s face. They closed their eyes. “Tell me,” she cajoled.

“Olivia texted me,” they said, their breath hitching.

“What did she say?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri gave their phone to Khoudia. “Ew.” Coach Cialdini looked behind himself to see Yuuri and Khoudia looking over a phone. He made a gesture, signaling that they need to continue walking. Yuuri shoved Khoudia along and followed behind her. They took out their phone, looking at Olivia’s message. Against their better judgment, they decided to text back.

> : Hey. I’ve missed you, too.

They bit their tongue at their ingenuousness. They haven’t missed her; they hadn’t thought of her until Phichit mentioned her name.

> Olivia: I heard from Phichit that you’re going to the RC today
> 
> : I am
> 
> Olivia: Good luck ((heart emojis))
> 
> Olivia: Also, question: How opposed would you be to going out to dinner with me?
> 
> Olivia: to catch up, ofc. Nothing behind it.

Yuuri was tempted to throw their phone into an incinerator and run far, far away. But they couldn’t. They were in an airport with their rink mate and coach, walking to the airline desk.

> : That would be nice.

They wanted to kick themselves in the teeth for saying that. They didn’t miss or care much for Olivia – not anymore, at least. They didn’t feel like they had to go out to dinner with her, but they said that they would anyway.

“Yuuri, stop texting her, or I’m throwing your phone away,” Khoudia said. She took their phone out of their hands and put it in her pocket. “We don’t need her.” She continued to walk, and Yuuri hurried behind her.

#


	41. Bats in the Bell-Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They in Moscow.

#

**(Wednesday, 25 November 2015 – 8** **:56pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Coach Cialdini and his ducklings touched down in Moscow. Khoudia got no sleep on the flight, which meant that neither Yuuri or Coach Cialdini got to sleep on the plane. She was stuck between the two and made sure that they got no sleep. Yuuri could see why Coach Cialdini would be grouchy after being on a flight with Khoudia. She kept wanting to play Super Smash Bros with Yuuri because they owed her a rematch at the café, but Yuuri just wanted to ruminate on how they agreed to go to dinner with Olivia after they told Victor that they weren't planning on seeing her. They felt terrible; really terrible. They noted that as _another_ thing they’d have to tell Victor.

“Which one of us is getting the Uber?” Khoudia asked. She gave Yuuri their phone back. “I paid to get to Yuuri’s house; Yuuri paid to get us to the airport,” she said. “So, Ciao Ciao pays for the Uber!” Coach Cialdini looked down at Khoudia. She patted his back. “Do you have the app?”

“My daughter installed it, but I don’t know how to use it,” Coach Cialdini said. Khoudia held out her hand for the phone. He gave it to her. “Unlock it. My passcode is 1202.”

"Ciao Ciao, you could've just unlocked it yourself. I didn't need to know that," Khoudia said as she unlocked her coach's phone. She stumbled around, trying to navigate Coach Cialdini's Android phone, but she managed to hail an Uber. "Three minutes," she said, putting Coach Cialdini's phone in her coat pocket. "I'll give you your phone back when the cab comes." They all had their bags ready, and they waited by the sliding doors for their Uber.

“I don’t know how much you know about this, but Olivia is back,” Coach Cialdini said.

“We know,” Yuuri said. Khoudia took out her phone and started to type.

“She wants to continue skating.”

"We know," Khoudia said. She sent a message and looked at her phone like she was waiting for something. She took a deep breath and exhaled through her nose. Then she took out Coach Cialdini's phone and unlocked it. "One minute," she said. She put both phones away and grabbed her bags. Coach Cialdini and his children stood at the entrance of the airport, waiting for the cab. The driver pulled up, and Coach Cialdini and Yuuri packed the bags into the trunk. Khoudia held the door open for them. She was sandwiched in between Yuuri and her coach again.

“Yuuri,” Khoudia said. “When we get to the hotel, can we play Smash again?”

“We have to let our systems charge,” they said. “Yours died in the middle of a match.”

“I’m still upset about that.”

“Which one is Celestino?” The driver asked. Coach Cialdini waved. “Privyet, Celestino,” the driver warmly said. Khoudia gave Coach Cialdini his phone back. The driver pulled off from Domodedovo Airport. The ride should take about 45 minutes. Yuuri took out their phone; they had new texts from Olivia and a few from Victor.

> Victor: Why are you leaving on Wednesday?
> 
> Victor: Reply
> 
> Victor: I miss you ((crying emoji))

Yuuri made a mental note to come back to Victor’s texts. Right now, they wanted to see what Olivia was saying.

> Olivia: Great! We really do need to catch up.
> 
> Olivia: How's Khoudia? I texted her last night, but she didn't respond.
> 
> : She doesn’t want to talk to you.

Yuuri bit their lip and looked at Victor’s texts. What could they say to him? “The truth,” their mind echoed back. “Tell him the truth.” They took a deep breath and started to write out what they want to say. After a few minutes, they deleted all of it and said, "I just like to leave early. And I miss you too." At that moment, they hated themselves.

Then they went back to Olivia’s messages.

> Olivia: Huh? She doesn’t want to talk to me? Why?
> 
> : You hurt her, and she doesn’t want to talk to you.
> 
> Olivia: It’s not my fault she’s hurt over some small thing.
> 
> Olivia: Tell her to talk to me.
> 
> : She ((clapping emoji)) don’t ((clapping emoji)) want ((clapping emoji)) to talk to you.

Yuuri put their phone away. They're trying to make it clear to Olivia that Khoudia wants nothing to do with her. They even punctuated their last text with the clapping emoji to stress it. They looked over at Coach Cialdini; he looked like he was about to drop. They leaned their head back and closed their eyes. Khoudia was on Twitter.

> Victor: Where are you?
> 
> : I touched down in Moscow finally
> 
> Victor: Don't go to any bars

Yuuri took Victor’s demand to heart; he wouldn’t go nightclubbing while in Moscow. They probably wouldn’t understand anything going on in the club.

> : May I ask why?
> 
> Victor: They’re not that safe
> 
> Victor: Also, you don’t know Russian
> 
> : Understood, my love
> 
> Victor: ((crying emojis))

Yuuri smiled. They felt this heat envelop their entire body while the dread in their stomach threatened to come forth. It was a confusing feeling to feel joy and repulsion all at once. They wanted to bathe in this glow and exorcise this dreadful feeling from him, but they couldn’t separate them; so, instead, they took both of them as they are.

“Are you okay?” Khoudia asked. She put her head on their shoulder.

“No,” Yuuri muttered. Khoudia yawned. “I feel disgusting,” they admitted.

“You always look perfect,” Khoudia said. Yuuri hesitated to say anything. Did Khoudia interpret their “I feel disgusting” as them feeling disgusting regarding their body? It wasn’t necessarily an incorrect interpretation, but it wasn’t the interpretation needed for this moment. Yuuri looked down at Khoudia; she had her eyes closed. Are they really going to be the only other awake person in the cab?

It turns out that they were. Yuuri was the only person awake when they arrived at the hotel. They couldn’t will themselves to sleep. They primarily spent their time looking at the blurry lights on the highway. But now they were getting out of the car to help Coach Cialdini with the bags. 

"Khoudia," Coach Cialdini said, "go check-in for us." Khoudia nodded and went inside the hotel to check the trio in. Yuuri was left to carry their and Khoudia’s bags inside, and they managed to do it in one trip, too. They dropped the suitcases by Khoudia's leg and stood next to her.

“Take your suitcases,” they said. Khoudia rolled her eyes.

“When I’m done,” she said. She patted their shoulder and finished up at the check-in desk. “Alright, let’s go.” She grabbed her suitcases and pulled them behind her. Yuuri followed behind her and eventually surpassed her. “Hey!” She said, walking faster. Yuuri was first to the elevator. “Did Ciao Ciao already go upstairs?”

“No, I’m right here,” they said from behind them. “Yuuri, Khoudia,” they said. “No sleepovers.”

“We know,” Khoudia said.

"I'm serious, you two. No sleepovers!"

“Are your skaters a handful, too, Celestino?” A voice came from behind them. There was a brunette man with black-framed glasses standing behind them.

  
“Ah, Christian, how are your skaters?”

“Sophia, Michael, and Elizabeth are fine.”

“You two, go upstairs,” Coach Cialdini said to Yuuri and Khoudia. Yuuri pressed the up button harder, praying that the elevator comes faster.

> Khoudia: Why is Ciao Ciao trying to get rid of us?
> 
> Khoudia: He did the same thing when we were in Wisconsin together.
> 
> Khoudia: He ran into a coach, and he wanted to get rid of me.
> 
> : Idk. Maybe he doesn't want us to cramp his style.
> 
> : Or something idk idk
> 
> Khoudia: What style? He’s Ciao Ciao.

The elevator came; Yuuri and Khoudia boarded it. There was another person that boarded with them, too. He was taller than Khoudia and had black hair. His eyes were cold and shined in the light.

“For someone that’s supposed to be tired, he’s mighty talkative,” Khoudia said to Yuuri once the door closed. “Who does he think he is? Trying to rid himself of us.” She stole a glance from the stranger on the elevator.

“He thinks he’s Ciao Ciao, of course,” Yuuri said. "We can't stop him. If he wants to talk to other coaches and shoo us away because we are a nuisance unto him, then all we can do is comply." Yuuri looked at the stranger between them. He seemed like he wanted to get off of the elevator fast. Yuuri couldn’t blame him.

“I _know_ we can’t stop him, but it upsets me.”

“When does Ciao Ciao even get the chance to speak to other coaches?”

“Every day on Facebook,” she said. Yuuri shrugged.

“All I’m saying is that he doesn’t have to get rid of us. We know how to behave in public.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia in disbelief. The elevator stopped on the sixth floor, and Yuuri and Khoudia got off before the stranger. “What room are you in?”

“6…Thing that looks like a B.”

“6 Thing that looks like an E,” she said. Yuuri found 6В while Khoudia went to find 6E. They were across the hall. “The ISU wants this sleepover to happen. I’ll be right over,” she said. Yuuri opened their door; it didn’t have anyone else in it like last time. At first glance, it just had a bed, a small television, and a desk. Yuuri would have to look around once they get themselves situated. Yuuri took off their shoes, set their suitcases in a corner, and sat at the foot of their bed. They took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. They’re here, at the Rostelecom Cup.

They forced themselves up and went to their suitcase. They took out their forest green pajama pants and pastel green tank top. They quickly changed into their pajamas and sat on their bed. They went into their coat pocket and checked their messages.

> : I’m at the hotel now.
> 
> Victor: Aah! What hotel?
> 
> : Gostinitsa Arena.
> 
> Victor: Chris is in that hotel, I think.

Yuuri read Victor’s message and went to Olivia’s.

> Olivia: Let's get off the topic of Khoudia.
> 
> Olivia: I sense that I’m not going to get anything out of this from you.
> 
> : Yeah, you’re right. You’re not.
> 
> Olivia: So, what’s new with you since I’ve been gone?
> 
> : Your concern is in vain

Yuuri threw their phone behind them and looked at their door. They wiped their face with their forearms and put their head in their hands. Their cellphone buzzed. They grabbed it again. They’re a mess for coming back to this when they kept telling themselves that they weren’t going to.

> Olivia: Are you hurting too?
> 
> : I’m not hurting.
> 
> Olivia: Right. Whatever you say.
> 
> Olivia: So how have you been since I last spoke to you?

Yuuri rolled their eyes. They hadn’t missed Olivia acting like this at all. They went back to Victor’s texts.

> Victor: Wyd rn?
> 
> : Just sitting in this hotel.
> 
> : I’m kind of bored.
> 
> Victor: I’ll call you.

Yuuri got a FaceTime notification, and they accepted it. “ _Солнышко_ ,” Victor said with his heart mouth and sparkling eyes. Yuuri smiled weakly. “You look upset. What happened?”

“That person contacted me today,” they muttered and plopped on their bed. They looked at Victor nod. "I wish I never responded to their texts. She hasn't even been back three days, and I'm tired of her already." 

“Then stop responding to her,” Victor said. There was silence. “What’s her name?”

“Olivia.” Victor nodded. “I can’t exactly stop responding to her, though. I told her that I’d go to dinner with her.” Yuuri looked at their phone. Victor looked incensed. "I know, I know. I told you that I wasn't going to see them, but they asked, and it caught me off guard." 

“When are you going?”

“I don’t know. They just asked if I wanted to go. Maybe I could get out of it somehow.” Yuuri yawned. Victor made a face. “I hope I can get out of this.”

“I hope so, too,” Victor said. He looked to be sitting by a window. “Have you run into Chris yet?” Yuuri shook their head. “I’m excited for you to meet him, but I’m also anxious. Chris is a huge flirt.”

“Doesn’t Chris have a partner?”

“Doesn’t stop him. You’d think it would, though,” Victor said. He smiled. Yuuri brushed their hair out of their face. “It’s late there, isn’t it?” Yuuri nodded. “I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“I haven’t even been gone for that long yet.”

“I know, but still,” he said. There was a knock at the door. Yuuri looked at Victor look at Yuuri. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

“I don’t have to,” Yuuri said. The person kept knocking. Yuuri looked at their door. “Yeah, I don’t have to do that.”

“Yuuri, open your fucking door!” Khoudia yelled. Yuuri looked at their phone and looked at the door.

“Yeah, Yuuri. Open your fucking door.” Victor was laughing now. Yuuri left their phone on the bed and begrudgingly opened the door.

“What?” They said. Khoudia had her phone, 3DS, and chargers in her hands.

“Wow, rude,” she said. She was in a yellow nightgown. “I’m here for that Smash rematch, nerd.” She made her way in Yuuri’s room and looked for an outlet. “Get your system ready because we’re playing.”

“I _can’t_. I'm on the phone with Victor." Khoudia stood by the television, and she just looked at Yuuri.

“Hello,” Victor said. Khoudia picked up Yuuri’s phone and waved at Victor. She put Yuuri's phone down gently and continued looking for an outlet.

“Well, we're still playing Smash, so I hope your 3DS is charged.”

“You know it’s not,” Yuuri said. They moved the television stand so Khoudia can get a better look.

“If I find an outlet, I hope you’re not planning on watching anything tonight.”

“It’s not like I’ll be able to understand anything.” Yuuri picked up their phone. "I'm sorry. Khoudia wants to play Smash Bros with me, and she's being a git about it."

"You went to an event with a friend?" Victor questioned. Khoudia made a face that involved a knit brow. Yuuri flicked her. Victor was smiling; he looked so lovely right now, and that made Yuuri smile. Khoudia looked on at the spectacle in amazement and confusion. “What is Smash Bros?”

“It’s a video game.”

“What do you do in it?”

“You fight characters.” Victor nodded. Yuuri propped their phone against their pillow in landscape mode. “Khoudia and I were playing it on the plane.”

“Is it fun?” Victor asked.

“Tons,” Khoudia said. Victor nodded. Yuuri turned on their 3DS and looked at Khoudia. She was still trying to plug in her charger.

“I think I’ll let you two get to your game. I’ll text you, sunshine.” Victor smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Yuuri said. The call ended, and Yuuri sighed deeply. “Khoudia, I hate you sometimes.” She giggled. “I could’ve had a nice conversation about something not-geeky with Victor, but you had to come in and talk about playing Smash.” She smiled and finally found the outlet.

“You’re acting like I did something wrong,” she said. She stood up straight and connected the charger to her 3DS. “Look, Victor asked about Smash on his own accord. Plus, don’t you need to talk to him about the things you do?” She sat on the floor and made sure that her charger was at an appropriate length. “He was going to find out that you’re a weeaboo nerd eventually.”

"Am I a weeaboo if I'm Japanese?" Yuuri asked. They looked for another outlet. They found it and plugged up their 3DS with relative ease. Khoudia shrugged. “Are you ready?” They asked, turning on their 3DS. They were both across the room from each other, prepping themselves for the Smash matches that were to come. “I’m going to win.”

“Are you so sure?” Khoudia asked, trying to make herself comfortable on the floor. She was smiling now. “How do you know you’re going to beat me this time around?”

“I can feel the thrill in my veins,” Yuuri said. Khoudia rolled her eyes at their thinly veiled and poorly phrased Romeo & Juliet reference. And they played.

#

**(Thursday, 26 November 2015 –** **4:18am, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri had Khoudia go to her room before she fell asleep. They spent more time talking than playing Smash and watching anime like they were supposed to. When Khoudia left, Yuuri returned to their phone and continued to text Olivia and Victor. Victor was telling him about this book he’s reading. Yuuri mentally remarked that Victor went through his books like water and complimented him for it.

Yuuri couldn’t sleep very well; they’d wake up every few hours. By now, they had given up on sleeping. Their phone showed that it's 4:20am. They wanted to talk to Phichit or Victor, but they didn’t want to disturb them. They could, however, bother Mari. According to their world clock, it's 10:20am in Japan. So they called their sister, hoping that she would be willing to talk to them.

“Hello?”

“Mari?”

“Hey there, little brother,” she said. “What’s going on?”

"I'm in Moscow, and I can't sleep." Mari made a curious sound. "I'm in Moscow for my event."

“Oh,” she said. “So why can’t you sleep? Is something on your mind?” She questioned. Yuuri told her that there was but wouldn’t elaborate. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s about my…” Yuuri paused. They never thought that they would be going to their sister for relationship advice. “It’s about my boyfriend,” they forced themselves to say. “I never told him that I’m a figure skater, and I can’t bring myself to tell him now.”

“And this is causing you to lose sleep?”

“That’s not the only thing,” Yuuri said, “but yes.”

“I can relate. There’s something I’ve avoided telling someone that’s important to me.” Yuuri remained silent, waiting for their sister to continue. "But the best thing to do in a situation like this is to be honest. They'll be hurt that you delayed in telling them, but you have to tell them no matter how much you don't want to. Sooner rather than later."

"Who is this person that you're trying not to hurt?" Yuuri asked.

"Someone dear to me," she said. "So, moral of the story: You have to tell him no matter how much it pains you to do so." There was a clicking sound on the other end. "So, what's this other thing? You said there was something else bothering you."

“Someone I never wanted to see again came back.” Mari made an inquisitive sound.

“I didn’t know you were capable of feeling emotions such as disdain.” Mari moved something. “Tell me about them. What is it about this person that is grating your soul? What did they do?”

“Their presence unsettles me,” Yuuri started. “They should have stayed where they were.” Yuuri rolled on their stomach and burrowed further into bed. “I was better off not knowing where or how they were.”

“But what did they do to you?” Mari asked. “They must have done something to make you despise them so much.”

“They breathed, Mari,” they said. "They breathed, and I hate them for it." Mari sighed. "What's worse is that I don't think I hate them all that much. Don't get me wrong. I _do_ hate them,” Yuuri said, “but I also… don’t. They occupy space in my head and heart – space that should go towards my boyfriend – and I hate them for occupying it. But I also don’t. Am I making sense?”

“I think I get it,” Mari said. “You need to give yourself time to get over them.”

“It’s been two years.”

"Getting over someone isn't a hard and fast process. It's slow and painful; sometimes wounds have to be reopened before they can heal properly." Yuuri looked at their phone. Mari is rather perceptive today. "You're only human." 

“Mari, you’re being very astute.” She sheepishly laughed. “It’s welcome. I welcome this,” Yuuri said. They looked up at the ceiling; it was the color of cotton. Their bedsheets were the color of porcelain, and the comforter was the color of peanut shells. Yuuri briefly thought about going over to Khoudia’s room to look at things and maybe touch a couple of things, too. They thought about waking her up so she can keep them company. But then they also thought to do the same to their coach. They didn’t want to be alone right now; it seems that Mari was the best option Yuuri had.

“I’m glad someone can appreciate it.” She sheepishly laughed again. “So, what are you doing for your birthday?” Yuuri looked at their phone. “Did you forget that your birthday is coming up soon?”

"I've been so busy; I guess I had forgotten it again." This has been a yearly thing. Yuuri's birth month comes up, and they promptly proceed to either willingly fling themselves into something or unwillingly get so caught up in something that they forget it.

“You can’t keep forgetting your birthday, Yuuri,” Mari said. “You have enough time to forget it later.” Yuuri yawned. “Do you have anything planned?”

“No,” Yuuri said. “I guess I could… I don’t know. I’ll probably end up doing what I did last year.”

“And what did you do last year?”

“Nothing really,” Yuuri said.

“You need to do more things for your birthday. This is the time of your life.” Yuuri shrugged. “It’s the time of your life, and what do you do? Skate, paint, and watch anime.” Yuuri buried their face in their pillow and kept their phone near.

“I guess I can go out with my rink mates for dinner.”

“That sounds nice,” Mari said. “Make sure you do that soon. I want to hear all about it.” Yuuri could feel Mari smiling through the phone. She doesn’t smile unless something happens to catch her eye. So what caught her eye today? Yuuri felt their headspace get foggy. Maybe they’d be able to get some more sleep finally. “Are you in bed right now?”

“I am.”

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” Mari said. “I love you, little brother.”

“I love you, too,” Yuuri said. They ended the call and rolled on their back. They had a text from Olivia.

> Olivia: Wyd?
> 
> : Laying in bed.
> 
> Olivia: Doing what?
> 
> : Trying to sleep.

They sat up and went into their bag for their laptop. They had put it away when Khoudia left. They only watched some of The Rose of Versailles; they got through two episodes before they just decided to stop watching the anime. It was a shame, too; Yuuri felt that Khoudia should’ve stuck to it more than what she did.

> Olivia: What time is it there?
> 
> : 4:30
> 
> Olivia: You might as well give up on sleeping. You’re not going to bed now.

Yuuri rolled their eyes and logged in. What were they even going to do on their computer? They didn’t know what they were going to do. Right now, they were staring at a picture of the northern lights; it was of Victor before, but they changed it before he came over. They kept looking and looking and looking. Then they got an iMessage notification from Olivia.

> Olivia: Do you have any plans for today?
> 
> : I don’t know. I’ll see if Khoudia wants to do anything.
> 
> Olivia: So she bothers with you but not me? Lol
> 
> : She bothers with me because I didn’t string her along and break her heart.
> 
> : She’s inconsistently fragile, and we both know this.
> 
> : So why are you surprised that she doesn’t want to talk to you?

Yuuri rubbed their eyes to the point that they stung, and they had to stop. They yawned and looked at their wallpaper again. They could change it to something more of their speed. They could change it back to Victor; they could change it to Vicchan; they could change it to one of their paintings. They were reticent to change it to one of their paintings because that would require them to 1) take themselves seriously as an artist and 2) have paintings good enough to be a wallpaper. And Yuuri did neither of those things. So they laughed at that thought. But then they thought of changing it back to Victor. It was easy enough to explain away – sort of – but changing it to Vicchan was easier. So they decided to change it back to Vicchan. It made them smile to see their beloved companion.

But then Yuuri started to hear a knocking sound come from somewhere, and they couldn’t ascertain from where. So they decided to play Bela Lugosi’s Dead; that should be enough to drown out the knocking, but it wasn’t. Instead, it got louder and louder and took on a new form as the song went on. Soon the sound became cacophonous banging and screaming, and the sound felt like it was closing in on Yuuri, making itself known yet stalling, waiting to devour them whole. They took deep breaths, but the sound compressed their chest. They clawed at their neck to try and ground themselves, but the sound kept at itself. They were face down on their keyboard – the sensation, albeit unpleasant, was welcome. Their breathing was shallow, their neck was sore, and all they could do was take it. 

#

**(Thursday, 26 November 2015 –** **7:28am, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri fell asleep eventually somehow. They didn’t know how they’d done it despite the sound, but they did.

But they were awake again, and the cold sun was poking through the clouds. They woke up with their face on their keyboard and Messages open. They didn’t remember typing anything; hell, they didn’t even remember opening it. They closed their laptop and returned it to their bag. With every step they took, they heard voices giving them commands. At best, they were a mild annoyance. Yuuri got back into bed and looked at their feet from beneath the covers. They looked at their toes move as they wiggled, and as the voices continued to give their commands and harshly reprimand them for not doing as they said.

> Olivia: Okay, moving on from that
> 
> Olivia: Wyd rn?
> 
> : I woke up.
> 
> Olivia: I can't believe you went back to sleep.
> 
> : Yeah, I’m shocked that I did too
> 
> Olivia: Is Khoudia awake?
> 
> : I don't know. I'll check.

Yuuri got out of bed – which, in some sense, did appease the voices – and walked across the hall to Khoudia’s room. They knocked on the door and turned the lock. She left it open. “Khoudia?” Yuuri peered inside. Khoudia wasn’t in bed. “Khoudia?” They stepped inside her room and closed the door behind him. “Khoudia?” Yuuri passed by the bathroom and pressed their ear to the door. Beyond the commands, they heard running water; she must be showering. Yuuri left Khoudia’s room as quietly as they came in and went back to their room. They got back in bed and grabbed their phone to text Khoudia.

> : I came in to see if you were awake, and you were in the shower.

They put their phone down and looked up at the ceiling despite the voices telling them not to.

> Olivia: So? Is she awake?
> 
> : She’s in the shower. So I left. It would’ve been weird if I stayed.

Yuuri kept their eyes fixated on their door. One voice seemed content with that. Yuuri wishes that the voices could be in agreement regarding what they want them to do. They rooted down in their bed, keeping their eyes on the door. They didn’t know who or what they were waiting for, but they kept looking.

And looking.

And looking.

They kept looking until Khoudia came through the door, clean, moisturized, and smiling. “I got your text!” She said as she casually walked over to Yuuri’s bed. She sat at the foot of it, cross-legged. “I didn’t expect you to be awake.”

“The same can be said for you,” their voice was barely audible.

“Huh?” She leaned in closer. “I can’t hear you, ma raison. You’ll have to speak louder.”

They tried again, their voice a little bit louder than before. “The same can be said for you.”

“I still can’t hear you, love.” She crawled so that her body was next to theirs. She lowered her head so that her ear was near their mouth. “Try now.”

“The same,” they paused – their voice as low as the first time, “can be said for you.” She nodded. “Do you have your phone?” Khoudia sat up and pulled it out. Yuuri reached for their phone and went to their messages.

> : I’m not in much of a speaking mood right now.

“That’s fine. But we do need to eat breakfast,” she said. “Where should we go? What should we get?” Yuuri shrugged. “Get from under the covers. I can’t see you shrug like that.” Yuuri forced themselves out of the security of their comforts and sheets and sat up. They drew their knees to their chest and wrapped their arms around their legs. “What happened to your arms? Why are your knuckles white?” Yuuri looked down at their arms; there were long, red scratches that bordered on scars on them. They looked at their knuckles; they were a ghostly white color. Yuuri shrugged. “That’s not an answer.” Yuuri unlocked their phone to text Khoudia their response.

> : Yes, it is.

“What’s going on with you? This isn’t normal.” She paused. “Not like either of us _are_ normal, but that isn't my point. Something's off." 

> : Are you ready to hear it?

“Just tell me.”

> : Will you stay?
> 
> : I can’t bear to be alone right now.

“What could be so bad that I would leave?” She asked.

> : Okay, so I'm hallucinating right now.
> 
> : The voices are rather loud and very demanding.
> 
> : And I don’t know what to do until it stops.

“When will it stop?” Yuuri shrugged. “I need to call Phichit. He knows what to do, right?” Yuuri nodded. So Khoudia called Phichit; he picked up. Yuuri wanted to chastise Phichit for being awake so late, for picking up so soon, but they were in no shape to do so. “Hey, baby, your partner…” She stopped talking. “They’re hallucinating right now. They said that the voices are being demanding.” She stopped talking again. “Right. Of course. Why would I leave? Anyway, I don’t know what to d—” Yuuri looked at their fingers. "I can't put them on. They’re just whispering. It's tough to hear them." She fell silent. "Okay, so I do that and—" Yuuri made their hands into fists. They clenched their hands so tight the color drained from them. "I have to stay with them?" She looked over at Yuuri. “I will. Of course. Thank you, baby,” she said. “Thank you so much. I’ll call you if anything.” She ended the call.

> : So?

“Where should I sleep?” She asked. She unfurled their fists and massaged the indentations on their palms. “I’ll stay with you until the voices stop.” Yuuri reached for their phone.

> : You don’t need to.

“But I want to. I’d feel bad if I didn’t.” Yuuri looked down at their phone. “If the voices don’t stop, how will you skate? _Can_ you skate in a state like this?”

> : I can, but it won't be my best.
> 
> : Speaking of skating, we have to tell Ciao Ciao as soon as possible.

“Is he even awake?” Khoudia questioned. Yuuri shrugged. She fell silent. “Do you still want to go out and get breakfast?” Yuuri shrugged. “That’s not an answer. Try again.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “Love, go wash your arms before your cuts get infected.”

> : They’re not cuts. They’re scratches.

"Cuts, scratches – that isn't the point. Wash your arms. They might get infected." She yawned. "You don't have a first aid kit with you, do you?" Yuuri looked puzzled. “So I can wrap your forearms.”

> : I’ll be fine.

“That isn’t the point. Go wash your arms.” She slapped Yuuri’s back. They got up slowly, agonizingly, and went into the bathroom. They looked around it and stared at the small, porcelain sink. The voices screamed at them to not wash the scratches on their arms, but they did as Khoudia commanded. At first. They stopped short when it came time to do the washing. "Do you need help?" Khoudia asked. Yuuri looked at their wet hands and nodded. They didn’t know how they were going to be able to skate _tomorrow_ when they were struggling to do basic things _now_.

Khoudia gracefully walked over to the sink and started to wash their scratches. Her hands were soft and warm. And, at that moment, Yuuri was grateful to have a friend like Khoudia around in a moment where they felt so hopelessly infantile.

#

**(Thursday, 26 November 2015 –** **10:30am, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri was convinced that Khoudia is a saint in human form. After she washed their arms, she guided them in taking a shower. She explained the steps of it gently, lovingly, and kindly encouraged them when the voices were acting up. She was an excellent stand-in for Phichit, and she was an excellent caretaker in her own right.

Now Khoudia is at the rink, getting in her practice. Yuuri was sitting in Coach Cialdini’s spot, as stone still as silent as can be. Coach Cialdini was standing rinkside, observing Khoudia as she skated. “Khoudia, stop skating.” She stopped on a dime. “Why are you skating like there’s something on your mind?” She skated over to where Coach Cialdini was. “I know you’re concerned about Yuuri, but you have to let that go for now. Focus on your skating.” She nodded. “Yuuri is fine. Aren’t you fine, Yuuri?” Yuuri took out their phone and texted Coach Cialdini. Coach Cialdini looked at their phone and looked at Yuuri. He was deadpan when he saw what Yuuri said.

> : One of the voices wants me to slit my throat with a skate.

“Are you okay, Yuuri?” Khoudia asked. She toddled off the ice and went over to Yuuri. She knelt in front of him. Yuuri gave Khoudia her phone and texted her.

> : Aside from the voices being very aggressive and homicidal, yes.

“You see why I’m concerned, Ciao Ciao?” Khoudia lamented. “Who knows what could happen when I’m on the ice?!” She grabbed Yuuri’s hands. “They need me." Another skater looked over at her, and Yuuri took note of it. Her phone buzzed.

> : Khoudia, you’re being overdramatic. I’ll be fine.

“Are you sure? Are you certain?” She lovingly stroked their face. They allowed their thoughts to turn towards Victor. Victor would stroke their face, letting his fingers trace their jawline. This was one of the ways they would still their soul in the dead of night. Yuuri nodded. “Okay, I’ll get back on the ice now. Just making sure you’re alright.” Yuuri smiled sweetly. Khoudia smiled. “Alright. I’m going to trust you.” She leaned over and kissed Yuuri’s forehead. Khoudia stepped back on the ice and stood in front of Coach Cialdini. “They said they’ll be alright. I’m going to place them in your care.”

Khoudia started to skate again. Yuuri’s phone buzzed. It was Phichit.

> Phichit: Ma poupée, I need to know how you’re doing.
> 
> : Terribly.
> 
> : I told Khoudia that I was fine, so she wouldn’t have to worry too much.
> 
> Phichit: You NEED to be honest with her about this.

Yuuri rolled their eyes, and a voice reprimanded them for that. The voices seemed to do a lot more reprimanding than commanding lately, probably because Khoudia was in direct opposition to what the voices said, and Yuuri went along with what she said rather than what the voices said.

> Phichit: Be honest with her about this. For my sake.
> 
> Phichit: You're so far from home, and I can't take care of you. She's the best we've both got.
> 
> : She's doing an outstanding job. I'm proud of her for assuming responsibility so gracefully.
> 
> : She saw the scars on my arms, and she washed them. She talked me through taking a shower. She helped me eat breakfast. She’s so good.
> 
> Phichit: When you come back, we’re taking her out to eat. She deserves a nice dinner.

Yuuri nodded in agreement. Khoudia deserves something sweet for dealing with them so graciously. They looked up from their phone. “Start with your short routine,” Coach Cialdini said. Khoudia started her routine again. She tried to skate like there was nothing on her mind, but it wasn’t going well. So Yuuri got up and stood next to Coach Cialdini. They put their thumbs up for Khoudia to see. That seemed to set her at ease.

#

**(Thursday, 26 November 2015 – 7:42pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri got in their practice despite the loudness of their voices. There was still one that was insistent that they slit their throat with a skate, but that one has since calmed down. Yuuri didn’t know by which means they have successfully quelled that beast, but they were glad that that one has calmed down.

Yuuri and Khoudia were out, trying to find something to eat. They settled for the restaurant down the block from the café they went to for breakfast. Khoudia wanted a Caesar salad. Yuuri couldn’t decide on what they wanted, so Khoudia decided for them: A Greek salad. Yuuri was willing to have their salmon steak with asparagus, but Khoudia thought that, after their breakfast, they should explore more foods. She thought that salmon on a bagel with a side of capers was too decadent for them, so they're having a salad and lobio. Neither of them knew precisely what lobio was or what they could expect, but they decided to try it.

“I’m anxious about this meal,” Khoudia said.

> : Me too.
> 
> : I hope you don’t want to leave after you see what we’re getting.

“Look, all I’m saying is that I did not expect our breakfast to look as affluent as it did.” Khoudia cracked her knuckles. “I wasn’t used to seeing salmon _and_ bagels looking _that_ good, and I sure as hell wasn’t used to seeing them look good together.” Yuuri shrugged. “Don’t judge me, okay.”

> : I’m not judging.

“Yes, you are,” she said, playfully hitting their arm. She went to Safari and went to Google.

> : What are you doing?

"I'm googling ‘lobio.'" She bit her lip and went to the Wikipedia page. "Okay, so it's a bean dish from Georgia. Ours is going to be hot, I think."

> : Can you have it cold?

“According to the Wiki, you can,” she said. “Baby,” she said, “give me your phone.”

> : Why?

“You’ve been texting Olivia, haven’t you?” Yuuri nodded. “I’d like to see what you’ve said to her.” Yuuri looked down at their phone. “You wouldn’t mind if I looked, would you?” Yuuri gave Khoudia their phone. She wiped her eyes. “You trust me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” they whispered. Khoudia nodded. She seemed to be focusing on Yuuri’s lips. “Can Khoudia even read lips?” Yuuri wondered. The waitress came out with their waters. Khoudia thanked her and went to the chat. She took a sip of water as she calmly read.

“So, you’re going out to dinner with her?” She said after she put down her water. Yuuri nodded. "Do you want to do this?" Yuuri shook their head. “Then don’t go.” Yuuri nodded. She kept reading. “She keeps asking about me,” Khoudia said. “I’m glad that you keep telling her that I want nothing to do with her. Because I don’t.” Khoudia gave Yuuri their phone back. “Thank you.” Yuuri nodded.

> : I don’t know why I thought going to dinner with her would be a good idea.

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have to and that no one is making you.” Khoudia switched to her camera. “Smile, baby,” she said. Yuuri smiled and threw up a peace sign. “You look so cute. This is going on Instagram.” Yuuri felt a wave of dread wash over them.

> : Does Victor or Chris follow you on Instagram?

“I don’t think so. Let me check.” Khoudia went to Instagram and checked her followers. “No, they don’t. Why?” Khoudia selected the photo. “You haven’t told Victor, have you?” Yuuri shook their head. “Yuuri, I love you, but you do some dumb shit sometimes.” She posted the photo and captioned it “ma raison d’être.” “Is it really so hard to just tell them that you’re a figure skater and that you’ll see them when you go to the Grand Prix?” Khoudia took a sip of water. “Next time I get your phone, I’m telling them. And you won’t like how I phrase it.”

> : That isn't necessary.

“But apparently it _is_ necessary since you don’t know how to say it.” She took a sip of water. “Ma raison, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

> : I already know what I want to say to him.

“Then why haven’t you said it?”

> : I’m waiting for the best time.

“You have to _make_ it the best time, ma raison," Khoudia said. She took another sip of water and knitted her brow. "Keep your phone away from me. Because I can assure you that I'm going to tell him if I get my hands on your phone." Yuuri was trembling right now. They reached over towards the window for a straw so they can drink their water. They struggled with trying to get the wrapper off of the straw. “Do you need help?”

“I’m fine,” they whispered. They were finally able to tear the paper off of the straw. They placed the straw in their glass of water and sipped. Yuuri was glad to be drinking something. The waitress came out with their lobio. Yuuri and Khoudia took pictures of the dish.

“Do you want to try the lobio first?” Yuuri nodded. The waitress supplied them with flatbread for the lobio. “So, how do we do this?” Yuuri shrugged and ripped off a piece of flatbread. They dipped it in the lobio and put the flatbread in their mouth. “Well, that’s one way.” Khoudia grabbed a piece of flatbread and her spoon and scooped some lobio onto her bread. She folded it and ate. She looked like she was processing something as she chewed.

> : Do you like it?
> 
> Khoudia: I’m thinking about it.

Khoudia took another bite and proceeded to process the flavor of the lobio. Once she swallowed, she nodded. “I like it.” Yuuri ripped off another piece of flatbread and dipped it. “Do you?”

> : I’m eating it, aren’t I?

“Okay, no need to be snippy,” Khoudia said. “All I asked was if you like it.” Yuuri laughed. Khoudia smiled when they laughed. “There’s the Yuuri not everyone knows.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “And there’s the Yuuri everyone knows!” She giggled. “How are you feeling? How are the voices?”

> : Me? I feel fine for right now.
> 
> : The voices? They are still an annoyance.

“Do you want me to talk to Phichit?” Yuuri nodded. “Okay, I’ll call Phichit.” Khoudia put an earbud in and offered the other one to Yuuri. Yuuri put it in their ear and slightly leaned over the table. Khoudia called Phichit. “Ma foi,” Khoudia said.

“Hey. How’s Yuuri?”

“They said they feel fine right now," Khoudia said. "They’re listening to this conversation right now."

“Poupée, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” Yuuri whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Phichit asked. "Khoudia, why are they whispering?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “They either whisper or they text their responses to me. They haven’t explained why they have to do this." Yuuri unlocked their phone and texted Khoudia.

> : I can’t talk too loud
> 
> : The voices will start screaming

“They said that they couldn’t talk too loud, or else the voices will start screaming.” Khoudia looked as if she had just realized something. “That’s it?” Yuuri nodded. “Really?” Yuuri nodded again. “That’s some reasoning,” Khoudia said. Yuuri shrugged and tore off another piece of flatbread.

“That’s some reasoning, Yuuri," Phichit said. "How have they been aside from that?” He asked. “How has ma poupée been otherwise?”

“They’ve been fine,” Khoudia said. “They managed to practice while the voices were being a distraction. I am so happy about this.”

“As am I,” Phichit said. Yuuri texted Phichit.

> : How have you been while we’ve been gone? How are the hamsters?

"I've been so lonely," he said. Then it sounded like Phichit was taking a sip of something. "The hamsters have been lovely, though. But I think they miss you more than I do."

> : I miss the hamsters, too
> 
> : Rub their fuzzy little heads for me

“I will. I’ll even give them apple slices for you.” Yuuri touched their chest. “I will be sure to tell them that you love them, too.”

> : That would be lovely ((crying emoji))

“You two are weird,” Khoudia said, fighting a smile.

“You’re weird, Khoudia,” Phichit retorted. “Yuuri and I are discussing our sons. Don’t act like you don’t discuss Hadiya in this way.” Khoudia sucked her teeth.

“You and Yuuri can’t have sons,” Khoudia said before she took a sip of water. “Because Yuuri and I have Adé, Masabeeh, and Tal’at. And Adé, Masa, and Tal’at are older than the hamsters, _and_ they’re human.” Khoudia checked her fingernails. She was considering getting them done when she gets home.

“You’re acting like Yuuri can’t have several sons.” Yuuri took a sip of water and continued to eat the lobio. “Adé is just as much Yuuri’s son as the hamsters are,” Phichit said. “All of them are Yuuri’s kids. All of them.” Yuuri started to laugh. “Ah, there’s the sound I love to hear.”

“What’s so funny?” Khoudia asked.

> : We’re discussing the hamsters as if they’re actual people
> 
> : Continue

“This just gets weirder and weirder,” Khoudia said. She took a sip of water and looked at her phone. “Why am I even friends with you nerds?”

"Because we're all we have," Phichit said. "We're all weirdos and misfits, and we're all we have." Yuuri looked at Khoudia’s phone, taking notice of her case. It was a mint green color with gold accents. “We’re all attracted to each other like a magnet to a refrigerator.” The waitress came out with their salads.

“Done?” The waitress asked, pointing at the lobio. Yuuri looked at Khoudia; she nodded, and the waitress took away the dish. Yuuri looked at their salad.

“Is there a problem?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri shook their head. “Ma foi, our food just came. We have to go now. We’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, Khoudia,” Phichit said. “I love you, ma poupée.”

>   
> : I love you, too

Phichit hung up, and Khoudia found her fork. She started to eat. Yuuri took the earbud out of their ear and gave it to Khoudia. “Thank you, baby,” she said. Yuuri started to eat their salad. The voices began to scream; they started trembling again and stopped eating. “Are you okay? Is something wrong with your salad?”

> : I hear screaming

“The voices?” Yuuri nodded. “What are they saying?”

> : They don’t want me to eat the salad

“What do they want you to eat?” She asked.

> : Not the salad

Khoudia nodded. “Would it be too much for me to ask you to continue eating your salad?” Yuuri shrugged. “Can you try?” Yuuri nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

The voices continued in their rancorous behavior as Yuuri ate. Khoudia was making conversation with Yuuri as she ate, trying to keep them from focusing on their voices. It worked reasonably well.

#

**(Thursday, 26 November 2015 – 9:54pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

After dinner, Yuuri and Khoudia decided to go back to the hotel. It was getting late, and Yuuri wanted to get to bed. Khoudia was sitting on Yuuri’s bed, trying to decide whether or not she should stay with Yuuri in their room or stay in hers. Yuuri insisted that they would be fine without her presence, but Khoudia said that she would feel bad if she left them alone. So Yuuri said that Khoudia could stay in their room with them. So now they’re figuring out if Khoudia should get the bed or the chair.

> : I’d feel bad if you slept on the chair.

“But this is _your_ room,” Khoudia said. She had grabbed the blankets off of her bed. “I can’t make you sleep on the chair in your room.”

> : But you’re my guest here.

"I'm not so much a guest but a caretaker," she said. "Plus, I've already torn the blanket off of my bed, so I _need_ to sleep on the chair.” Khoudia wrung the blanket. “So, I’ll sleep on the chair.”

> : Or you can sleep in bed with me.

Khoudia reread the text several times to make sure she understood it. Yuuri got in bed and pulled the covers back. They patted the spot where Khoudia could sleep.

> : I don’t want you sleeping on a chair. Just get in the bed.

“What do I do about my blanket?”

> : Put it in the chair.

Khoudia put the blanket on the chair and sat at the foot of the bed. Yuuri beckoned Khoudia to the place they had their hand. She tentatively crawled over to the spot to lay down. Yuuri turned off the lights and laid on their back. The voices seemed to be quieter now.

“I’ve wanted this,” Khoudia said, “with Olivia.”

“I know,” Yuuri whispered.

“Yuuri?” She said. “If you want, can you go to dinner with her and let me know how she is?” Khoudia wiped her eyes. “And can you take pictures of her, too?” Yuuri nodded and rolled on their front. They checked their messages; Olivia had texted earlier, but Yuuri chose to read the last message.

> Olivia: So, what did you and Khoudia end up doing today?
> 
> : We ate, walked around, and practiced.
> 
> Olivia: I don’t know why I expected you two to do otherwise lol

Khoudia rolled on her stomach and peered over Yuuri’s shoulder. “Would you mind if I watched you text her?” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m going to watch you text her.”

> Olivia: What did you two eat?
> 
> : For breakfast, Khoudia and I had salmon and cream cheese on a bagel.
> 
> : She liked it, but she felt uncomfortable eating it. Thought it was too decadent.

“It was!” She giggled. “I have never felt more lower middle class in my entire life until I saw salmon on a bagel!” She covered her face. “And there were capers! I have never heard of capers before today!” Yuuri laughed.

> : For dinner, we had salads and lobio.
> 
> : The lobio was good, ig.

Khoudia got her phone and went to the Wikipedia app. “I’m going to read about capers again. I refuse to be embarrassed in public again.” Yuuri nodded. “So if you want to text Victor, you can. I won’t look over your shoulder or anything. I’m nosy, but not that nosy.” She giggled again.

“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered.

> Victor: Солнышко ((sparkling heart emojis))
> 
> Victor: Tell me about your day.

Yuuri looked at the text. What do they even say to Victor about their day? "I woke up at 4am because I was wracked with guilt over how I've been less than honest with you"? "I'm currently hearing voices, and some of them want me to inflict harm on myself"? "Haha, nice"? Yuuri didn’t know what to tell them, so they opted for something simple.

> : It was fine.
> 
> Victor: What did you do?
> 
> : Went out to eat. Walked around. Took pictures.

Yuuri rubbed their eyes. Khoudia turned on the lights and went to the camera app. “What are you doing?” Yuuri asked. Their voice was a bit louder now.

“I want to take a selfie.” Yuuri looked over at Khoudia. “I’m black. You can’t see me in the dark.” They shrugged. Khoudia snapped two seemingly identical flicks. “Take one with me.” She threw her arm around Yuuri’s neck and kissed their cheek. They were subdued. She took two more. “Snapchat needs this. Turn on your light.” Yuuri did as they were asked and rolled their eyes. “Time for the thot filter!” She held down her finger and scrolled to the dog filter. Snapchat recognized Yuuri but not Khoudia. “Who needs Snapchat? It’s racist anyway.” Yuuri laughed.

“Try the flower crown one.”

“I’m surprised you know about that one.”

“Phichit is my roommate, Khoudia,” Yuuri reminded her. “I know about all of the filters. All of them.” Khoudia unlocked her phone and held her finger down on their faces. The flower crown worked on Yuuri but not on Khoudia.

"What the fuck?!" She yelled and tossed her phone onto the bed. "Snapchat, what the fuck?! Stop being racist!" Yuuri laughed harder. “This is not funny, Yuuri. I am tired of this.” She started to talk about the history of photography and how people of color were largely ignored from the history of it. She finished her tirade with “ergo, Snapchat is racist” and angrily fluffed her pillow. Yuuri laughed again. “This is some bullshit. I’m fighting the person who invented modern photography.” Yuuri laughed harder. Khoudia glared at Yuuri, and they eventually started to quiet up. Their phone buzzed. “It’s your boyfriend.”

> Victor: Did you go to Red Square?
> 
> : No. But we went to Smolensky Convent and the Church of the Beheading of John the Baptist.
> 
> Victor: Do you go to church?
> 
> : No. She likes church architecture and felt that I had to be outside more.

Yuuri looked over at Khoudia; she was on Instagram. She was still fuming about the Snapchat filters.

> Victor: Is your friend usually proactive about you sight-seeing?
> 
> : Very. When I was in Bordeaux, she was adamant about me seeing the local spots and touristy areas.
> 
> Victor: And she’s from Detroit?

Yuuri patted Khoudia’s head gently and put their phone down. “Are you going to sleep now?” Yuuri shrugged. “How do you not know if you’re going to sleep?”

“I just don’t know,” Yuuri muttered. They looked at Khoudia’s feed from over her shoulder. “Who’s that?”

“Oh, this?” She liked the photo. “That’s Sophia Deacon and Elizabeth Clancy.” Yuuri nodded. “They’re here for the RC, but I think only Elizabeth is participating.” Khoudia went to Sophia’s Instagram. “You need to use your Instagram more. I will not always be around to tell you who’s who.”

“How do I go about using my Instagram more?” Khoudia shrugged. “That doesn’t help at all.”

"You'll have to start socializing with other skaters," Khoudia said. "Or you could comb Phichit's follow list and just follow people." Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s phone. “Also, you post about things you like or scenes you saw.” Yuuri stroked their chin and unlocked their phone. Khoudia unlocked her phone and typed in her Instagram handle on Yuuri’s phone. “You can get started with my followers. Sweep away, my perfection.” Yuuri switched to Snapchat. “What are you doing?” They snapped a flick of them and Khoudia in bed and captioned it “ma petite sirène ((grinning emoji))” and added it to their story. “That was a good start, but most of the skaters worth caring about use Instagram.” Yuuri sucked their teeth and went back to Instagram. They were going to be combing Phichit’s, Adé’s, and Khoudia’s Instagrams for a while.

#


	42. Turn Towards Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finds out from an unlikely source about a thing.

#

**(Friday, 27 November 2015 – 4:24am** **, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri swept their rink mates’ Instagrams. It wasn’t too difficult; they followed mostly the same skaters, but, aside from that, there were a lot of deviations. For instance, Phichit follows a lot of food blogging Instagrams while Adé, Khoudia, Masabeeh, and Tal’at follow black Instagram models. Yuuri didn’t know what niche they would fit in or what they would even do with their Instagram, but they guessed that they could use it to peer into the lives of fellow skaters.

But right now, it was morning. Yuuri hadn’t slept a lick; the voices came back right when they were about to fall asleep. They were at the desk, typing away at the open Word document when they should be journaling. Their therapist and psychiatrist are going to have a field day with the voices when they get back; naturally, the voices were adamant about Yuuri not mentioning them. They sighed and looked out the window. They hoped Khoudia remembered to bring her gloves; it's freezing outside, and she's sensitive to temperature changes. 

> Mari: I have something to tell you.
> 
> Mari: But I can’t tell you just yet.
> 
> : Mari, stop doing this to me.
> 
> : Just tell me.
> 
> Mari: I will. Just you wait.
> 
> Mari: Give me until tomorrow.

Yuuri rolled their eyes. They hoped that Mari was genuinely serious when she said that she'd tell them what this thing is. They turned towards their journal. They made sure to note that they were frustrated and highly curious about what their sister could have to say to them.

> Olivia: Oh so you finally follow me back on Instagram
> 
> Olivia: Only took you like… two years lmao
> 
> : Shut up, Olivia
> 
> Olivia: [clutches chest] Rude!
> 
> : ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Yuuri reread their last sentence and placed their journal back in their carry on bag. They looked over at Khoudia; she’s still sleeping. Yuuri took a picture of her and saved it. Then they posted it on their story, captioning it with "my petite sirene ((star emojis))." 

> Olivia: So wyd?
> 
> : Just journaling.
> 
> Olivia: You journal now?
> 
> : Mm-hm.

Yuuri looked around the room. The ceiling was the same color as yesterday. They felt that they were about to drop due to exhaustion, but the voices wouldn’t let them sleep.

“Are you still awake?” Khoudia mumbled. Yuuri looked back at her. “Go the fuck to sleep.” Khoudia threw her pillow at Yuuri’s head. “Have you even been to sleep?” Yuuri shook their head and gave Khoudia her pillow. “Thank you. Now go to sleep.” Yuuri got back in bed and laid in their spot. They looked at the ceiling; it’s still the same color. “You have to skate later today. Sleep.” Khoudia put her head on Yuuri’s chest and held her hand on their bicep. She yawned like she was a newborn kitten. At this moment, she looked as vulnerable as a newborn. 

#

**(Friday, 27 November 2015 –** **5:35am, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri still wasn’t asleep. They were alternating between looking at Khoudia sleep and looking at the ceiling. They thought about what it would be like if the ceiling caved in and crushed them and their current caretaker. Would the bed above them come down and mangle them, too? Was there even a bed above them? Yuuri was curious but accepted that it was unlikely that they would ever find that out. There might be a strange skater – or an ordinary family – above them, sleeping peacefully, disregarding the monster in the walls. Khoudia knew about the monster but decided that sleep was more important than keeping watch. 

Yuuri looked at Khoudia sleep. She was on her right side, and her braids were out of their ponytail. Yuuri would fix it for her, but they couldn’t find the scarf that she used to tie her braids back. They checked their phone. They had eighteen texts. About half of them were from Olivia. They read the last two messages.

> Olivia: The suspense is killing me: what do you journal about?
> 
> Olivia: I can’t imagine that you’d have anything worthwhile to write in a journal
> 
> : ((eye roll emoji))
> 
> Olivia: Oh you’re alive

Yuuri rolled their eyes. Then they rubbed them. “Khoudia?” Yuuri whispered. Khoudia was unresponsive. “Khoudia,” Yuuri said again as they nudged her arm. She elbowed them and covered her face with the blanket. Yuuri sighed and rolled on their right side.

> : I am.
> 
> Olivia: Can I call you? I’ve missed hearing your voice.
> 
> : I’m with Khoudia right now.
> 
> Olivia: So you can't take my call, or you won't take my call?
> 
> : A little bit of both.

Yuuri looked at their phone and went to Victor’s messages. They felt terrible for not responding to him last night, but they could’ve sworn that they were going to go to bed last night. If they had known that they weren’t going to go to bed, they would’ve responded.

> Victor: I miss you

Yuuri rubbed their eyes and reread Victor’s last text. They should respond now.

> : I miss you too

Yuuri went back to Olivia’s messages. Victor was probably asleep now. So was Phichit. Olivia, however – for some reason, was still awake.

> Olivia: Why do you regard her the way you do?
> 
> Olivia: I don’t remember you ever being like this with her.
> 
> Olivia: Ever.

Yuuri shrugged. They couldn’t remember when they started to care so much about Khoudia. They looked back at her. She was on her back, and she had kicked the covers off of her. Yuuri pulled the covers over their shoulders.

> : I regard her the way I do because she’s my friend and I care about her.
> 
> Olivia: Is that all?

Yuuri rolled their eyes again. What is Olivia even implying?

> : Don’t you have to go to bed or something?
> 
> : Wait, where are you even staying? Who are you staying with?
> 
> Olivia: I could tell you all of that if you let me call you.
> 
> Olivia: So let me call you, or else you’ll be damned to an existence of not knowing.

Yuuri sighed and reached over to the nightstand for their headphones. They plugged them into their phone and put the earbuds in. They were going to regret this. Immensely.

> : Fine. You can call me.

Yuuri sighed again and waited for Olivia to call. She called after a minute. “Yuuri!” Olivia said. Her voice was sweet and modulated – just like the day she left. “I’ve missed your voice.” Mm-hm. “You don’t believe me?”

“Not really,” Yuuri said.

“ _Una vergogna_ (a shame),” she said. “Will you ever trust me?” Yuuri was taciturn. “Have you ever trusted me?” Yuuri remained taciturn. “I’m not going to get an answer, am I?” Yuuri breathed into the phone. “I know you’re there. Answer me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Yuuri asked. They looked at their fingers.

“Act like you’re paying attention. Act like you care about what I’m saying,” Olivia said. “Can you do that?”

“Sure,” Yuuri said. “Didn’t you say that you were going to tell me who you were staying with and where you were staying?”

“I did, but can’t we just talk first?” Yuuri remained silent. “You’ve been standoffish since I texted you on Wednesday.” Yuuri looked back at Khoudia. There weren't any signs that she was awake. "Let's talk normally. How have you been? How's Moscow treating you?"

“Moscow’s been fine so far,” Yuuri said. They bit their lip and thought about something else they could say regarding the matter. “Khoudia and I got here Wednesday night.”

“Did you get the chance to practice your routines?” Yuuri answered in the affirmative. “How did those go?”

“I wanted to die the entire time,” Yuuri said. They felt Khoudia stir. They tensed up but then relaxed when they didn’t hear her voice.

“Sounds rough.” Olivia yawned. “Are you in the mood to FaceTime? I want to see how your face has changed.” Yuuri looked over at the desk. “I bet it’s gotten even more handsome since the day I left.” Yuuri shrugged in response to her comment. The FaceTime notification came through; Yuuri accepted it. “Hey!” Olivia said. They leaned their phone against the nightstand. Olivia’s face was still pixelated from the connection. “Can you see me?”

"You're still pixelated." Olivia sighed. Soon the connection fixed itself. Olivia was clear. Her hair was as umber brown as it's ever been, and her eyes were the color of green tourmaline. It also seems that she's stopped using makeup to fix her aquiline nose, too; either that or she had washed her makeup off before she called. Her skin was clear, and her lips were rosy. It seemed that her (nearly) three years in Paris did her well.

“You look like you haven’t aged a bit,” Olivia said. “I’ve missed your face.” Olivia smiled. She looked like she was lying on someone’s sofa. Yuuri briefly entertained the idea that she was at _their_ home, but immediately dismissed it. The couch looked nothing like theirs did, and Yuuri and Phichit didn’t own pillows like the one Olivia was resting her head on. “Did you miss my face? How do I look?”

“You look gorgeous,” Yuuri admitted. She does look gorgeous. She somehow looked healthier, too. “I… I grew accustomed to not seeing your face.” Yuuri felt their face heat up. Olivia giggled.

“Ah, you still blush when you see me. How cute!”

“I’m not blushing,” Yuuri sputtered. Yuuri covered their face with the covers. It was so much warmer under there. “This just happens when it’s cold.”

“You’ve missed me,” Olivia said. Yuuri peeked at their phone screen; she was smiling now. “Poke your head from under the covers. I’m FaceTiming you to see your face. Don’t hide from me now.” Yuuri did as Olivia asked and placed their head back on their pillow. Khoudia rolled on her stomach and threw her arm over Yuuri’s chest. “Is that Khoudia’s arm?” Yuuri nodded. “How did you two get so close? You weren’t like this when I was still here.” Olivia rubbed her eyes. “The thought of sharing a bed with someone is abhorrent to you, no? What changed?”

“We’re sharing a bed out of necessity.”

“The ISU doesn’t allow male and female skaters to share rooms – let alone beds. Try again.”

“I don’t need to try again. I said what I said.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“What’s going on that makes you two sharing a bed necessary?” Olivia asked. Yuuri looked back at Khoudia. She didn’t seem to be awake yet. “Well?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you over dinner.” Olivia smiled.

“I’m surprised you still want to go to dinner with me,” she said. “When do you want to go? Where should we go? What do you want to do after?” Yuuri shrugged. “How about we go to the barbeque place downtown? And we can go…” Olivia’s face became blurred. “How about we go on the Wednesday you come back? Does that sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Yuuri said.

“What do you want to do after? We can go to the park.”

Yuuri remembered that they hadn’t set a time. “What time do you want to meet?” They asked. "I'm free after 3 pm." 

"How about we meet at 7 pm?" Olivia was glowing now. "Is that good?" Yuuri nodded. She smiled and said, "Since we're meeting at 7 pm, we probably won't be able to go to the park. How about we get some drinks instead?" Yuuri shrugged. Then they nodded. “Do you like that idea?” Yuuri nodded. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yuuri?” Khoudia murmured. She sat up. “What are you doing up? I told you to go to sleep.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

  
“Make yourself sleep,” she said. “You’re skating tonight. You need to sleep more than I do right now.”

“I really can’t sleep,” Yuuri said. Khoudia looked at Yuuri’s headphones and saw that they were connected to their phone. Then she looked at the screen. She squinted, grabbed their phone, and ended the call.

“Go the fuck to sleep.” Khoudia took Yuuri’s phone and put it under her pillow. Yuuri laid back down, their hands folded across their chest. Khoudia rolled on her right side and put her legs on top of Yuuri’s. If this was how Khoudia was going to prevent them from getting out of bed to do something, it was working because Yuuri wasn’t going to risk disturbing Khoudia’s sleep to get out of bed.

They still couldn’t sleep, though.

#

**(Friday, 27 November 2015 –** **6:18pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Khoudia was in the dressing room, doing Yuuri’s makeup. While there was a slim chance that Yuuri might’ve been imagining it, they were convinced that Khoudia had been quieter today. Coach Cialdini didn't take his eyes off of Yuuri and Khoudia; they didn’t want to hear from other coaches and skaters that his skaters were being rambunctious. Khoudia reached for the eyeliner; Yuuri grabbed her hand. “Are you upset about what you saw this morning?” Yuuri asked. Their voice was a whisper.

“I’m not upset,” she said. “Now let me do your eyeliner.”

“Then why are you so quiet?” They asked. “It has to be about something.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Khoudia.”

“Okay, fine, I’m a little upset,” she said. “What were you two even talking about?”

“We were talking about going to dinner when I come back.” Khoudia uncapped the eyeliner and started to work on Yuuri’s right eye. Khoudia nodded. “Is my eyeliner going to be sharp?” They asked, trying to elicit a good reaction out of her. She shrugged. Yuuri sighed.

“Could you not be in calls with her when I’m in bed?” Khoudia asked. “The thought of that makes me feel weird.”

“I won’t be in calls with her when we’re in bed,” Yuuri said. “Now, can I have my phone back?” After Khoudia took their phone this morning, she’s kept it away from them. When she went to take a shower in her room, she took their phone with them. When they went out for breakfast, she kept their phone in her pocket. Had Yuuri not been talking to anyone, they wouldn’t have minded; however, they had several people that they were interacting with, and they wanted to communicate with them. 

“What are you two talking about?” Coach Cialdini asked. He had been listening intently, trying to work out the situation. He knew that Khoudia would be in Yuuri’s room if he needed her and that Yuuri was having an episode. He swore to himself that he would act like nothing was going on if it came to that. But he was lost when it came to why Khoudia had Yuuri’s phone.

“Yuuri was talking to Olivia in bed,” Khoudia said to Coach Cialdini. He moved their chair closer to Yuuri and Khoudia. “And this was _after_ I told them to go to bed.”

“Are you mad about me not going to bed when you told me to, or are you mad about me talking to Olivia?” Yuuri asked.

Khoudia was about to respond to Yuuri’s question, but Coach Cialdini interrupted her. “Are you two still ruminating on Liv’s return?” He asked. “She’s back.”

“Are you taking her back?” Khoudia asked.

“I’m still thinking about it,” Coach Cialdini said. “I told her that I would have a response for her when we come back.” Coach Cialdini looked at their nails. "You two need to come to terms with your relationship with Liv. Because, like it or not, she's back in Detroit, and she might be back at the rink." Khoudia sucked her teeth. "You need to work through your feelings for her, and you have to do it fast." 

“So I presume you’re leaning towards taking her back,” Yuuri said. Khoudia almost jabbed Yuuri in the eye with the eyeliner. “Khoudia, please don’t stab me in the eye. I want to retain whatever vision I have.”

"I don't know if I am yet," Coach Cialdini said. "As I said, I'm still considering it." Khoudia went to do Yuuri’s left eye. “Both of you have old wounds that need to be healed. You have to start healing them.” Khoudia sucked her teeth again. “Khoudia Bâ Sène, don’t suck your teeth at me.” Khoudia fought the urge to roll her eyes. Yuuri felt their phone buzz.

“Can I get my phone?”

“No,” Khoudia said. “I’m doing your makeup. You don’t need your phone to get your makeup did.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” Yuuri sucked their teeth. "Suck your teeth again, and I'll pop you in your mouth." Yuuri fought the urge to suck their teeth and roll their eyes. So they just sat there in their ire. “Is your hair done?” Khoudia asked.

“I thought _you_ were doing my hair,” Yuuri said.

“No?” She said. “I thought you were done.” Khoudia stopped applying Yuuri’s eyeliner. “How do you do your hair? Do you use gel?” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll do your hair while I’m at it, I suppose.” Khoudia finished up Yuuri’s other eye and got the comb and gel out of Yuuri’s bag. She sucked her teeth when she saw the brand of gel they use; she uses a much higher quality gel for ethnic hair types. She’s using it for her edges right now. Khoudia started to comb Yuuri’s hair. “You need to use better gel. This is for white people's hair.”

“It works, though.” Khoudia tsk-tsked and continued to comb Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri’s phone buzzed again. “May I please have my phone?” They asked. Khoudia pointed to her coat pocket. Yuuri reached in her pocket and found it beneath the pile of napkins Khoudia had in there.

> Olivia: Do you know when you’re going?

> Christophe: I haven’t seen you at all yet
> 
> Christophe: You’re here, aren’t you?

> Victor: How has your day been?

Yuuri chose to respond to the most uncomplicated texts first and started with Olivia.

> : I’m going second.
> 
> Olivia: Aah!
> 
> : Mm-hm. I'm going second. I have enough time to die.
> 
> Olivia: lmao

Khoudia got up and walked around to Yuuri’s back. She started to comb the back of their head. She was applying more force than necessary. Yuuri was wincing in pain. “Khoudia!”

“What?” She asked and stopped combing.

“Why are you combing the back of my head like you’re trying to kill me?”

“I had forgotten that you’re not black,” she said. She resumed combing Yuuri’s head, trying to be more gentle. They returned their attention to their phone. They decided to respond to Chris’ messages next.

> : I’m here.
> 
> Chris: I want to see youuu
> 
> : You will eventually.

Yuuri briefly flirted with responding to Victor's message. What do they tell them? That they haven’t slept since the night before? That they’re hallucinating? That they’re going to dinner with the person they told them not to worry about? “Yes,” they said to themselves. “That’s _exactly_ what they should tell them.” Yuuri looked at Victor’s message.

> : My day could be better
> 
> Victor: What happened?

Victor’s response came as quickly as Yuuri texted them. They sighed. They couldn’t do this. Yuuri went to their camera app and took a flick of Khoudia combing their hair. She reached for the hand towel and the hair gel and started to run her fingers through Yuuri’s hair.

> : I hadn't slept at all.

Yuuri debated adding on “and I’m hearing voices” on to their statement but decided against it. They didn’t want to alienate him so soon. Khoudia started to gel Yuuri’s sideburns.

> Victor: Why haven’t you slept?
> 
> : I don't know. I just went to bed last night, and I couldn't sleep.
> 
> Victor: Awh. Are you tired right now?
> 
> : Honestly? I am capable of collapsing due to exhaustion at any moment, but I genuinely feel great.
> 
> Victor: That… doesn’t sound good

Khoudia ran her fingers through Yuuri’s hair again. Then she reached for the comb.

> Victor: I was going to suggest that you skip the event tonight and catch up on your sleep, but I am genuinely concerned right now
> 
> Victor: Is this normal for you?

Yuuri sucked their teeth and started to tremble inside. This is what they were trying to avoid: a concerned, curious Victor. They were grateful that he was worried – that he was showing his concern – but they didn’t need this. Not right now when there was so much they hadn't explained, and they didn’t have much control over the situation. They felt the dread nestle in their bones. They didn’t know how they were going to skate tonight when they were overcome with malaise.

#

**(Friday, 27 November 2015 –** **7:45 pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri’s legs were weak when they stepped off of the ice and went to the kiss and cry. They buried their face in their coach’s chest once they reached him. They skated their best tonight, and they were exhausted from it. Coach Cialdini lightly patted Yuuri’s back. Khoudia had found her way to the area surrounding the kiss and cry. The voices started making incomprehensible sounds; Yuuri held on to Coach Cialdini. Khoudia broke through the crowd and stood behind Coach Cialdini and Yuuri. She tenderly kissed Yuuri’s forehead. “Your hotline is blinging,” she said in their ear.

“What?” Yuuri whispered. They couldn’t distinguish her voice from that of their hallucinations. At that moment, they felt terrible that they couldn’t make out their friend’s voice.

“Hold on.” She gave Yuuri their phone and smiled.

> Khoudia: Your hotline is blinging.
> 
> Khoudia: That is to say, your phone has been buzzing nonstop.
> 
> Khoudia: Also, I’d respond to Victor as soon as you can.

Yuuri unlocked their phone to respond to Khoudia’s messages.

> : What did you do?

Khoudia readied her camera. “I’ll tell you after we take this selfie,” she whispered in their ear. They were able to catch some of what she said. Yuuri and Khoudia posed for the selfie and took three more – at her insistence, of course. Her hands were cold, and she had them by Yuuri’s neck. “I’m sorry my hands are so cold.”

> : It’s fine.
> 
> : Now, what did you do?

“Well, I didn’t do anything,” she said. “But I can’t tell you everything that’s going on right now.” Yuuri looked at her stretch. “Find me in your dressing room. We’re going out to eat with a few skaters.” Khoudia patted Yuuri’s shoulder with her cold hands. “I’m so proud of you.” She removed her hands from Yuuri’s shoulders and walked through the crowd. What exactly could be so harrowing, so dreadful that Khoudia can’t even speak of it? Yuuri didn’t know, but they didn’t have the time to check their messages and see what she means. Their scores were coming in.

Yuuri cried when they saw their scores. Their heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of their chest. Coach Cialdini had their arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and pulled them into a hug. Yuuri felt their phone buzz. Then it sounded again. Yuuri squeezed Coach Cialdini with all their strength. Then they pulled away, wiped their eyes, and smiled. At this moment, they were truly happy. They were glad that they broke their record. Despite their auditory hallucinations interfering, they were delighted that they were here – experiencing this.

Yuuri wiped their eyes again and smiled at their coach. Coach Cialdini was smiling, too. They had interviews to do now.

#

**(Friday, 27 November 2015 – 8:25 pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri went back to their dressing room to change. Khoudia was in there with three other people. They came in, gave Khoudia their phone, and started to take off their top. “Yuuri, before you start changing, let me introduce you!” Yuuri pulled their top back down and walked over to Khoudia. “This, right here,” she said, gesturing to the only other male-bodied person here, “is Michael Harris. He skated tonight.” Yuuri nodded. Michael had a pained smile on their face. “This,” she said, gesturing to the small blonde, “is Sophia Deacon –”

“But you can call me ‘Soph,’” Sophia said. Yuuri nodded.

“And I’m Elizabeth Clancy,” the black-haired girl said. Yuuri nodded again.

“I saw you two on Instagram last night,” Yuuri murmured. Elizabeth and Sophia looked confused. “Khoudia, are you done introducing me to people?” She nodded. They started to take off their top again. Harcourt’s skaters stayed despite the impending costume change. Yuuri looked at Khoudia and made a gesture, signaling to her to get the skaters to leave. She ushered them out and told them to wait by the door. Khoudia stayed inside with Yuuri. “Don’t you want to leave too?” They whispered.

“I’m fine with this,” she said. She handed Yuuri their clothes; she refolded them some time between coming back to wait for their and Yuuri’s arrival. They dressed slowly and didn’t make conversation with Khoudia. “Did you text Victor back?” Yuuri shook their head. “Ma raison, it’s _imperative_ that you text him back.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed. “That’s Christophe Giacometti. Don’t worry about that.” Yuuri nodded and reached for their shirt; Khoudia passed it to them. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to respond to your boyfriend. It seems important.”

“I will,” they whispered. They took off their costume pants and passed them to Khoudia. She folded that and their top. Once Yuuri got their pants on, Khoudia gave them their phone.

“Text him. Now,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded and went to Victor’s messages; they went to the last read message.

> Victor: Is this normal for you?
> 
> Victor: So uh, this is awkward.
> 
> Victor: Yura, can you call me?
> 
> Victor: It’s regarding something Chris told me.
> 
> Victor: It’s important.
> 
> : I can’t talk right now.

Yuuri gave their phone back to Khoudia. They put on their sports jacket and sat in their chair to put on their shoes. “Well?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri unlocked their phone and showed the texts to Khoudia. “Yuuri, _no_ , you don’t say that!” She chastised them. “You ask him what the thing is about!” Yuuri sucked their teeth. Their phone buzzed.

> Victor: You don’t understand, Yuuri.
> 
> Victor: I need to talk to you right now.
> 
> : I know, and I understand that, but I can't talk right now.
> 
> Victor: What interviewer is possibly holding your attention right now?

Yuuri looked at their phone. “So it’s finally happened,” they thought. They stopped putting on their shoes. They locked their phone and gave it to Khoudia. “Get that thing away from me.”

“Don’t you at least want to see what our wardies told you?” Khoudia pleaded. “Adé seems particularly moved.” Yuuri shook their head. “Are you hallucinating again?” Yuuri nodded. Khoudia covered her mouth with her hands. Yuuri looked up at her. “We don’t have to go to dinner then!” She said. “If you don’t think you’re able to, I can cancel dinner with Coach Harcourt’s skaters!” Yuuri put their right foot in their shoe and held out their hand for their phone. They unlocked it and texted Khoudia.

> : It’s fine. I’ll go with you.
> 
> : I don’t want to leave you alone with the pale faces.

Khoudia started laughing. She tilted Yuuri’s head up and kissed their forehead. “Thank you, Yuuri,” she said. “That means a lot. I don’t want to be alone with a bunch of pale faces either.”

> : Then why did you volunteer us to go to dinner with them?

“They invited us out after Michael’s skate. It felt rude to decline an invite.”

> : Are they paying?

“Yuuri, you know pale faces are cheap as fuck. You know they’re not paying.” She laughed. “They’re going to say ‘okay now, who is paying for what? I call paying for the sodas’ and watch the sodas be like $5.” She laughed harder. Yuuri smiled. “There’s the smile I cherish.” She squeezed Yuuri's cheeks. "Come on; we have to get back to the hotel." Yuuri put on their left shoe.

> : Where are we going to eat?

"We were discussing that when you were being interviewed. I think we agreed on Shake Shack." Yuuri kept their eyes fixed on Khoudia as they tied their shoes. She was smiling. "I hope we're going to Shake Shack. It's been a minute since I've had their fries." Yuuri nodded. “I know, right? Those fries good as shit!” Khoudia laughed. She packed Yuuri’s costume in their bag and readied their coat for them. “I still can’t believe that there’s a Shake Shack in Moscow! But Soph did say that we’ll probably have to take an Uber to Shake Shack, though.”

> : Are you getting a burger?

“Maybe! I can’t remember when was the last time I had a ShackBurger.” Khoudia stretched. Yuuri shrugged on their coat and grabbed their bag. "I want to try their SmokeShack burger with the applewood bacon, but I can't." Yuuri knit their brow. “Muslim.”

> : I have a question regarding that.

“Shoot, honey,” she said.

> : When you say you’re Muslim, how Muslim are you? Like, are there degrees to your Muslimness?

“Well,” she said, “I… I genuinely don’t know how to answer your question.” She put on her coat. Yuuri zipped her coat for her. “It’s weird. I could’ve sworn that I was thinking about this last night.” She zipped Yuuri’s coat for them. Then she put on a hat. “Let’s go!” Khoudia opened the door to the hallway. Sophia, Elizabeth, and Michael were all on their phones. Khoudia took Yuuri’s costume bag from them and left them to lug their equipment along.

“So, Coach Cialdini’s your coach, too, Yuuri?” Sophia asked. Yuuri nodded. “Khadijah was telling us how you’re an artist.” Yuuri side-eyed Khoudia. She was smiling.

> : What exactly did you tell them about my art?
> 
> Khoudia: I just said that you’re an artist.
> 
> : You didn’t SHOW them anything, did you?
> 
> Khoudia: No, ofc not.

Michael was talking to Elizabeth about their scores for tonight. He was currently ranked above Yuuri. Coach Cialdini’s and Coach Harcourt’s skaters stopped at the light. “Maybe you can show me your art some time, Yuuri,” Sophia suggested. Yuuri shrugged. “What do you usually draw?”

“I draw…” Yuuri’s voice trailed off. What _do_ they usually draw? “I draw what my heart wants,” they said.

“And what does your heart want?” Sophia asked. Yuuri cracked a smile and started to chuckle. “Did I say something funny?”

“No, no,” they said. “I just get asked that question a lot when it comes to my art.” Yuuri tried to smile. They were thinking of all the time Victor's asked them that. They finally understood what he was asking when he says that. And the realization of that made them laugh. “But, um, I usually draw bodies and body parts.” Yuuri started to think. “Sometimes I draw places.”

“Are they good drawings?” Sophia asked.

“Good is subjective,” Yuuri told her. She knit her brow. “But they’re fine, I suppose. They were good enough to get me in my college’s art program.” Sophia smiled. The light changed; the group started to walk again. Yuuri sped up so that they were at Khoudia’s side. They were flattered that someone wanted to talk to them, but they weren’t in the talking mood tonight. They had two situations they had to deal with, and neither of them was easily solvable. 

“I study business telecommunications,” Sophia said. She was standing by Yuuri’s side.

“How is it?” Yuuri asked.

“I don’t know yet. I’m still taking gen ed classes.” Yuuri nodded. “How have your classes been?”

“My classes have been fine,” Yuuri muttered. They looked over at Khoudia, mentally pleading for her to save them. Sophia was a curious, bubbly girl. “How old are you?” They asked.

“I’m nineteen,” she chirped. Yuuri looked her up and down and nodded. They could believe that she’s nineteen; she looks and sounds nineteen. They – nor Khoudia – had to face that situation: looking and sounding your age. “How old are you?” Sophia asked back.

“I’m twenty-two,” Yuuri said. They took out their phone and went to Chris’ messages.

> Chris: So I think I kind of screwed you over.
> 
> Chris: I would like to apologize for that. I didn't know that Victor still didn't know.
> 
> Chris: I hope I finally get to meet you tonight, though.
> 
> Chris: I’m stepping on the ice in a bit. Hope to catch you later, honey.

Yuuri sighed. So their suspicions were confirmed. Their recent, most dreaded fear has come true, and they had no control over it. Sophia started to make conversation with Khoudia; she must’ve noticed that Yuuri was getting uncomfortable. They might as well check the rest of their texts. They began with Adé. Khoudia said that they seemed moved, but all Yuuri could gather was that Adé was crying.

> Adé: Papaya
> 
> Adé: ((crying emojis))

Yuuri sent Adé a sparkling heart emoji and went to Phichit’s messages.

> Phichit: My babyyy ((heart emojis))
> 
> Phichit: That was so good
> 
> Phichit: You are so good
> 
> Phichit: You have blown me away
> 
> Phichit: I love you so much

Yuuri sent a flick of them walking down the street. It was dark and blurry, and Phichit sent one back of him wrapped in a blanket. Yuuri smiled.

> Masabeeh: Tal'at and I want to say that we died and came back.
> 
> Masabeeh: We have seen Jannah, and we saw it in your performance.
> 
> Masabeeh: We love you!
> 
> : I love you two too
> 
> Masabeeh: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Masabeeh: Tal’at is gushing.
> 
> Masabeeh: Have a nice night dad ((heart emoji))
> 
> : You have a nice day, too, Masa

Masabeeh sent a picture of her grinning. That made Yuuri smile some more. Then they went to Mari’s messages.

> Mari: That performance was fantastic.
> 
> Mari: Mom and Dad have been blown away.
> 
> : That’s the second time I’ve heard that tonight.
> 
> Mari: Well believe it because it’s true.

Yuuri went to Olivia’s messages. What could she possibly have to say?

> Olivia: Your skating's changed since the last time I saw you.
> 
> Olivia: Who was that for? That skating /had/ to be for someone.
> 
> : It was for me.
> 
> Olivia: Mm-hm.

They shrugged. They should probably mention their bonheur to her eventually. She should know that they have someone now. “If he doesn’t decide he doesn’t want anything to do with me, that is,” they thought. They stopped at another light. They felt a wave of dread wash over them. What if Victor didn't want anything to do with them? They checked their phone.

> Victor: I know you’re alive.
> 
> Victor: What is keeping you from answering me?
> 
> : I’m walking to the hotel right now.
> 
> Victor: But you’re responding right now.
> 
> : I know I am.
> 
> Victor: I’m calling you.

Yuuri looked back at their phone. Victor couldn’t call them right now. They wanted to have this conversation in a nice, calm, inside place. Not out in public where they couldn’t be as emotional as he felt.

> : That’s not a good idea right now.
> 
> Victor: Why not?
> 
> : There’s so much I haven't explained to you, and I don't know how to put it. 
> 
> : Also, listen to Futile Devices by Sufjan Stevens

They felt something in them writhe and talking to Victor was making it squirm more. This is what they were trying to avoid. They took deep breaths and reread Victor’s texts. This was moving oh-so-fast.

> Victor: What does that have to do with anything?
> 
> : It doesn’t have anything to do with anything. But listen to it.
> 
> : I’ll text you when I get to the hotel.
> 
> Victor: What are you doing right now?
> 
> : Going to eat with some skaters.

Yuuri put their phone in their pocket and walked behind Khoudia the entire time. They got back to the hotel. Khoudia briefly separated from Yuuri to go to her hotel room. Yuuri left their suitcase and costume by the door and took off their coat. They went to their other bag and took out their Docs. They changed shoes quickly and sat on their bed.

> : You can call me now.
> 
> Victor: Are you sure? Are you sitting down?
> 
> : I’m actually about to get up.

Yuuri put their coat back on and took deep breaths. They briefly wondered if they could do this right now, right before they were expected to socialize. They looked at boots and looked at how the light shined on them. Yuuri got up and zipped up their coat. They put their headphones in and connected them to their phone.

> : I think I’m ready now. 
> 
> Victor: Good because I’m not
> 
> : If you’re not ready, don’t force yourself. 

Victor must’ve not gotten Yuuri’s last text in time because they called immediately after Yuuri sent it. “Hey,” Yuuri whispered. “I can’t talk too loud right now.”

“Are you already with company?”

“No. Can you hear me fine?”

“You sound low, but I can just listen harder,” Victor said.

“No, no, don’t strain yourself.” Yuuri moved their foot. Their ankles were starting to ache. “Maybe we should have this conversation later.”

“No, we can have it now. This is long overdue.”

“It is overdue,” Yuuri said. “Who starts? Where do we start?”

“We can start with the ‘why,’” Victor said. There was a silence between the two. Yuuri thought of things they could say to fill the silence. “This is the part where you explain why you neglected to tell me that you’re a figure skater for almost three months.”

“I know,” they said. “I was planning on telling you a lot sooner, but I didn’t know how to deliver it. And when I _did_ finally know how to deliver it, it was too late.” Yuuri heard a knock at the door. It’s probably Khoudia.

“Yuuri?” She said. She knocked again. “Open the door.” Yuuri opened the door. Khoudia had changed clothes. “Are you ready?” They nodded. They walked to the elevator. 

“Is that Khoudia?” Victor asked, stumbling over her name. Yuuri would smile at that if it weren't for this treacherous situation. 

“It is her,” they said to Victor. Khoudia whipped out her phone and texted Yuuri.

> Khoudia: Is that Victor?
> 
> : It is.

“Is that it? Do you have more to say?” Victor asked. Yuuri was silent. “Are you there?”

“I’m thinking.” The elevator came. There were two other people there. Khoudia and Yuuri got on. “Do you have any more questions? I’ll tell you as much as you need to hear.” Yuuri exchanged glances with one of the men on the elevator. “I never intended to keep it from you for so long.”

“I understand,” Victor said. “Did I do something that made you not want to tell me?”

“Not at all,” Yuuri said. “The fault lies entirely with me. You haven’t done anything to make me _not_ want to tell you. I was just afraid _to_ tell you.”

“Why, though?”

“Because it’s you.” The men in the elevator exchanged glances with each other. Khoudia moved closer to Yuuri and grabbed their arm. She led them off of the elevator and to Coach Harcourt’s skaters.

“Oh, there you are!” Sophia beamed. Khoudia quieted her down. “What’s going on?” She said.

“They’re talking to someone,” Khoudia said in a hushed voice.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said. “I’m with other people right now.”

“I can hang up then –”

“No, no, I still want to talk to you,” Yuuri said. They looked over at Khoudia, who looked at Michael and Elizabeth. They weren’t making any moves.

> : Should we leave and take Sophia with us?

Khoudia shrugged. Sophia, sensing that Yuuri and Khoudia were talking about them, nudged her friends. "We should get going," Elizabeth said. She got up and stretched; Michael followed behind Elizabeth. Sophia offered to request the Uber. The five of them were waiting outside of the hotel. In retrospect, it was probably a better idea for them to remain inside, but they were already standing outside, and they didn't want to turn tail and go back in. 

“What are you doing right now?” Victor asked.

“Just standing around, waiting for this Uber,” Yuuri said. Elizabeth and Michael were taking, but Yuuri couldn’t make out about what.

“What about me made you afraid to tell me?”

“It wasn’t you specifically,” they said. “I wanted to come to you as a person. Not as a competitor.”

“All I’ve wanted is you,” Victor said. “Hasn’t that been obvious?” Yuuri stayed silent and looked over at Khoudia. She was texting Phichit. “I think I’ll let you go now. You deserve to go out tonight.” Yuuri remained silent. “Skate your best. I’ll be watching you tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?!”

“I’ll be watching you tomorrow. So skate your best,” Victor said. Yuuri’s hands started shaking. Khoudia patted their arm gently. “I can’t wait to see your free skate.” Khoudia got on her toes to hear what Victor was saying. “Maybe I’ll even see you at the Grand Prix.” Victor chuckled. Yuuri was floored. They’re laughing now? After Yuuri neglected to tell him something huge and gave their shoddy reasoning on why they didn’t tell him, he’s laughing? Yuuri was confused by this. "I'll text you." 

“Okay,” Yuuri said. Khoudia popped her leg out, trying to achieve more height. She wanted to hear what was being said. Yuuri put their hand on her shoulder and tried to lower her down.

“Stop! I want to hear!” Khoudia yelled. The couple walking by looked when they heard her. Victor chuckled again.

“This conversation is only for tall people,” Yuuri said. Victor started laughing. Khoudia was a small ball of fury right now.

“Unfair!” Yuuri shushed her and kissed her forehead.

“Do you want to hang up now?” Yuuri asked. “Khoudia is just going to get louder.”

“Khoudia seems like she’s a lot of fun.”

“She is, truly,” Yuuri said. “Text me. Please. She’s going to get worse.”

“I will,” Victor said and hung up. The fact that he didn’t say “I love you” left Yuuri unnerved. Yuuri took out their phone and showed the lock screen to Khoudia. She gave up once she saw that the call was over.

“So?” She asked. Sophia looked to have her interest piqued by Khoudia’s interest. “What did he say? What happened?”

> : Christophe told Victor about my skating. He doesn’t seem to be angry or upset about it.
> 
> : Also, he's going to be watching me skate tomorrow, so I have to not fuck up.

“What?!” Khoudia yelled. Michael and Elizabeth stopped talking. “Sorry I interrupted you two,” she said to Michael and Elizabeth. Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s face and brought them to her level. “So, as I was saying: Do not fuck up tomorrow. I do not have time for your dry wit. You _cannot_ fuck up tomorrow. You’ll have to skate like your life depends on it. No pressure, though.”

> : Wow ((eye roll emoji))

“I’m being serious.”

> : I’m sure you are.
> 
> : But what if I don’t /want/ to skate like my life depends on it? What if I want to skate how my heart feels?

“How does your heart feel, then?” She asked. Sophia moved closer to Khoudia, trying to listen in.

> : Like I need to leave immediately and go to a place where I’m safe.

“That’s not a valid feeling.”

> : Invalidating much?

Khoudia rolled her eyes. Yuuri looked over at Sophia; she looked confused. “All I’m saying is that you have to skate your best. It’s imperative that you do.”

“Why does he need to skate his best?” Sophia stood behind Khoudia. “Wasn’t he skating his best tonight? Because tonight was amazing.” Yuuri shrugged and took out their phone. Olivia had texted.

> Olivia: Well, tonight was breathtaking.
> 
> Olivia: I hope you skate like that tomorrow.
> 
> Olivia: And maybe you can skate for me when you come back.
> 
> Olivia: Just suggesting lmao
> 
> : That's not happening. Sorry.
> 
> Olivia: Lol can’t say I didn’t try.

Yuuri put their phone away after going to their messages with Victor. He still hasn’t texted yet. “How far is the Uber?” Khoudia asked Sophia.

“Seven minutes,” she said. Yuuri and Khoudia nodded. Yuuri took out their headphones and shoved them into their pocket; Victor wasn’t going to text anytime soon. “We’re going to freeze out here,” Sophia said. “Why don’t we go back inside?”

“Because we already left,” Khoudia told her. “We’d look kind of dumb coming back in after two minutes of coming out. You can go back inside, though.”

> : If it’s between “looking dumb” and “freezing” I think I’d rather look dumb
> 
> : Also, I’m surprised you haven’t gone back inside already
> 
> : Being African and averse to the cold and all

“Shut up, Yuuri,” Khoudia said. Yuuri chuckled.

“What did he say?” Sophia asked. Khoudia showed her the texts he just sent her. “Oh,” she said. “We can just wait by the door.” Sophia squeezed in the space behind Michael and opened the door. She tapped on the glass and waved at Yuuri and Khoudia through it.

> : Are we going to go back into the lobby?

“I don’t want to look dumb,” Khoudia said. “So, we’re freezing.”

> : We?

"You're not leaving me to freeze by myself. This is a group project, and we're all putting in work." Yuuri sucked their teeth.

> : My fingers might fall off at any moment.

Khoudia looked at her phone and remained silent. Then her phone got a text notification from Sophia.

> Sophia: Five minutes

Yuuri and Khoudia looked back at her; she had her phone pressed to the glass. She was showing them Uber. Yuuri looked at Sophia carefully. Her long and wavy, blonde hair was tucked into her wool cap and coat. Her eyes were the color of topaz, and she had slight bags under her eyes. Her nose was small and dainty and had freckles on the bridge and cheeks. Her cheeks were rosy, but Yuuri couldn't tell if that was due to the cold or if she had naturally rosy cheeks. She had some joie de vivre about her, and that was an endearing quality. All in all, she was a cute, friendly kid. 

“So Chris told him?” Khoudia said in a hushed voice. Yuuri nodded. “What did he say to him exactly?” Yuuri shrugged and took out their phone. They went to Chris’ messages and showed them to Khoudia. “But that doesn’t tell me what Chris said.”

> : Do you want me to ask him what he said?

“That would be nice.” Yuuri sighed and looked at the reply bar. They decided that this was better than anything else.

> : Hey Chris, can you tell me what you said to Victor?
> 
> Chris: [has sent attachments]
> 
> Chris: There ya go, cutie
> 
> Chris: Did you see me skate tonight?
> 
> : I didn’t. Sorry.

Yuuri saved the screenshot of the text between Chris and Victor. They looked at it at the same time Khoudia snatched their phone.

> Chris: Your baby
> 
> Chris: Is amaaazing
> 
> Victor: Yeah, I know!!
> 
> Chris: So you’re watching him skate then?
> 
> Victor: He skates?
> 
> Chris: Didn’t he tell you?
> 
> Victor: No?
> 
> Chris: …Oh.
> 
> Chris: Well, I’ll leave you to that. I’m going to be stepping on soon.

“You got exposed,” Khoudia said. “He just… #exposed you.” Khoudia gave Yuuri their phone back. “Are you going to talk to him again?” Yuuri went to their messages with Khoudia.

> : Well, he didn’t do anything wrong.
> 
> : I was the one who didn’t tell Victor sooner. I only have myself to blame.

“I mean, _yeah_ , but…” Khoudia stopped talking. “I don’t know what I was going to say. It’s kind of your fault, but who could blame you? We’re talking about–” Khoudia stopped talking again. “You know. _Him_. The Jupiter Conservator. The Sustainer. The Exalter.”

> : I know.

“I’d be hesitant to let him know I’m a figure skater, too, to be honest.” Sophia tapped on the glass again. Her phone says three minutes. Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Chris: So… wyd :*)
> 
> : I’m going out to eat with some skaters.
> 
> Chris: Ooh! Who’s their coach?
> 
> : Cialdini and Harcourt.
> 
> Chris: Who’s your coach?
> 
> : Cialdini.
> 
> Chris: Oh so you’re with a rink mate then
> 
> Chris: Don’t tell me. I remember their name lmao

Yuuri put their phone away. They don’t want to have frostbitten fingers tonight. They’ll text Chris back once they get in the Uber. Sophia tapped on the glass; Khoudia looked back and told Yuuri that it’s two minutes away.

Sophia tapped again and made her way out of the lobby. She stood at Yuuri’s left side; Yuuri was between the two now.

“Did you get the license plate?” Khoudia asked. Sophia showed Khoudia her phone. “Can we even _see_ the license plate? It's dark right now." 

"We can," Sophia said. "It should be pulling up right… now!" There was no car. Sophia walked to the end of the sidewalk and looked down the road. "Hold on. I swear this Uber is coming." After a few seconds, there was a pair of headlights coming down the street. "See! Told you!" Michael and Elizabeth stopped talking and looked at their rink mate. The Uber slowed to a stop, and Sophia got in first. Yuuri and Khoudia got in, and Khoudia got in Yuuri’s lap.

“What are you doing?”

“We need enough space for Michael or Elizabeth,” Khoudia said.

“I’m sitting up front,” Michael said. “So there should be enough space for you _and_ Eliza." Michael walked around the car and got on the passenger's side. Elizabeth got in, and there was enough room for Khoudia. She got out of Yuuri’s lap, but not before Yuuri removed their phone from their pocket. They _did_ tell themselves they’d reply to Chris. They had made three guesses, and none of them were right. 

> : It’s Khoudia

Khoudia started to lean on Yuuri and watch them text.

> Chris: Oooh yeah, you gave me her Instagram, and I forgot to follow her.

"So that's what happened," she whispered. The driver asked for Sophia, and she replied. He started the ride and pulled off.

> Chris: How is she? Is she competing at the Cup?
> 
> : She is, and she's okay.
> 
> Chris: Ooh, we should watch her skate tomorrow!
> 
> : I was planning on doing that.
> 
> Chris: I mean, we should watch her together, cutie.

Yuuri looked at their phone.

> Chris: I'd finally get to meet you, and we'd be doing something together
> 
> : Where would we meet?
> 
> Chris: Text me her dressing room. I’ll meet you there.

“Khoudia, where’s your dressing room?”

“Um, I don’t know,” she said. She looked at Yuuri’s texts. “Why can’t you two meet somewhere else?” Yuuri shrugged. “Meet outside of the stadium. Meet at your hotel room.”

> : Khoudia is against the idea of us meeting in her dressing room.
> 
> Chris: Why??
> 
> : I don’t know. It’s Khoudia.

“Rude,” she said.

> : She said that we could meet at my hotel room or outside the stadium.
> 
> Chris: Well, what’s your room number?
> 
> : 6B.
> 
> Chris: Great. I’ll stop by first thing in the morning to get breakfast with you.
> 
> : Wait, no, do not do that.
> 
> Chris: Why?

“Why’d you stop texting him?”

“How do I explain that –” Yuuri stopped themselves. “Take out your phone.” Khoudia did as Yuuri asked. They looked over at Elizabeth and Sophia – they were on Twitter.

> : How do I tell him that you’re staying in my room?

"Don't know. I never thought this would come up." Khoudia yawned. "The only person I foresaw this situation coming up with was Ciao Ciao, and even _then,_ I didn’t give it too much thought. Just tell him you’re having a sleepover.”

> : What if he wants to join the sleepover?

“You don’t have the room to have more people at the sleepover.”

“You two are having a sleepover?!” Sophia said. “I want to join!”

“You can’t,” Khoudia told her. “It’s a two-person sleepover.”

“So you can have a sleepover with him, but I can’t?” Sophia seemed miffed by that.

“Exactly that,” Khoudia said. Sophia rolled her eyes. “So yeah, you tell him that.” Yuuri unlocked their phone and looked at the last few messages. They couldn’t believe that they were going to say this. 

> : Khoudia is staying in my room.
> 
> Chris: Why?
> 
> : We’re having a sleepover.

Yuuri tensed up when they saw the ellipses. Then they disappeared. They relaxed when they disappeared, but then they popped up again. Yuuri closed their messages and put their phone to sleep so they would have the benefit of not seeing Chris’ texts as soon as they unlock their phone. Their cellphone buzzed, and Khoudia looked at their lock screen.

Chris: Is there a limit to how many people can be in attendance?

“I got this,” Khoudia said. She held down Chris’ text and responded. “Give me your lock screen thumb.” Yuuri gave their thumb to Khoudia, and she placed it on the home button. "Thank you, ma raison." 

“So how long have you two known each other?” Elizabeth asked. The driver made a sharp right. Yuuri wasn’t sure if that question was directed towards them or Khoudia.

But Khoudia answered for both of them. “Four years.”

“And you’ve been skating together for that long, I presume?” Khoudia nodded. “I’ve known Michael for about five years now. Soph is a rather new addition.” Then it explained why Michael and Elizabeth didn’t interact with Sophia much.

“How old are you again?” Khoudia asked.

“Twenty-four. Michael is younger than me.” Elizabeth giggled. Yuuri snapped their fingers when finally placed their accents: They’re English. “How are your other rink mates? How’s Camille?”

“Our other rink mates are fine.”

“I’m presuming they’re cheering you on from their sofas.” Khoudia nodded. “That’s lovely,” Elizabeth said. “When is Camille coming back to the ice?” Elizabeth asked. “Her presence has been missed by the entire Western skating world.”

“I’m sure it has,” Khoudia said. It unsettled Yuuri and Khoudia to hear Adé referred to with female pronouns. That coach at the Bompard did it, and now Elizabeth is doing it. "And I don't know. Camille will come back when they come back. It makes no sense to rush them." Yuuri and Khoudia knew the reasons why Adé hasn’t been itching to come back to skating.

“I know that we can’t _rush_ her," Elizabeth said, "but it would be nice if she could just tell people why she hasn't been competing." Elizabeth went to Instagram. "And I know she's alive. She just posted a picture of this table." Yuuri and Khoudia looked at Elizabeth's phone. It was of Adé's makeshift altar – which, in reality, was just a table with a white tablecloth and a small statue on it. They didn't want to take up too much of their partner's apartment space with having a proper altar, so they settled for something small and unassuming: hence the table with the white tablecloth. It seemed to suit Adé's needs in a way a better altar could. Yuuri went to Adé’s Instagram and looked at the caption. They smiled; no one would understand it, but it was imperative that Adé understood it the most.

#

**(Friday, 27 November 2015 – 10:20 pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Khoudia was already in bed, browsing Crunchyroll for an anime they can watch. Mentally, Yuuri already decided on more of The Rose of Versailles, but they hadn't told Khoudia that. She yawned, and her nose scrunched up. "Sophia is telling us how we're unfair for not letting her come to the sleepover," Khoudia said. 

“I feel bad for not letting her come along. She seemed so into what we were planning on doing tonight.” Yuuri did genuinely feel bad. She was giving them suggestions on things they can do together. She was very keen on Yuuri and Khoudia doing each other’s hair. Khoudia had texted Yuuri about how Sophia probably perceived Khoudia’s hair as not being “done” despite her hair being braided, and her follicles snatched back to Senegal. Sophia also suggested that they do karaoke. Despite Sophia also implying that saying “Khoudia” – and “Khadijah” – was too difficult for her and Khoudia wanting to drag her by her thin hair, her suggestion made Khoudia laugh.

“If you’re like this with a soft-eyed teenager you barely know, I hate to see how you are with Victor,” Khoudia said. “Let’s watch Madoka tonight.”

“No, it’s going to make you sad,” Yuuri said as they put on their t-shirt. "Let's just watch The Rose of Versailles."

“Is that going to make us sad?”

“Only after Episode 23,” Yuuri said. They climbed into bed and sat on the blankets. “What exactly did you tell Chris to get him to stop texting?”

“That it was an exclusive not-ISU sanctioned sleepover and that he can’t come.” Yuuri deadpanned. “What? It’s true. The ISU does not sanction it; it is exclusive; he can’t come.”

“You do realize that you said that to my boyfriend’s best friend. He’s probably wildly texting Victor about this behavior, and then Victor’s going to hate me even more.” Khoudia sucked her teeth and accompanied it with an eye roll.

"You do not know if Victor hates you," Khoudia said. "From what I know, you two are head-over-heels in love with each other, and it would take something major to get him to consider hating you forever."

"I was ‘head-over-heels' in love with Olivia, and now I curse the ground she walks on."

“No you don’t,” Khoudia said. Yuuri got under the covers. “Why do you feel the need to lie to me? You still harbor sentimental feelings for her. If you hated her as much as you claim you do, you would be – I don’t know – overcome with a different emotion rather than one of concern and dread.” Khoudia looked over at Yuuri with a smug, “I know I’m right” face. Yuuri rolled their eyes. "And she still has feelings for you, I think, but that isn't the point. My point is, it would take a lot for you and Victor to hate each other. Hurt each other immensely? Yes. Outright despise each other? No.” Khoudia reached her arms towards the ceiling. “Or you could be like _me_ and not love these hoes.”

Yuuri scrunched up their face. “Didn’t you spend weeks crying over a girl who wasn’t interested in being with you romantically?”

It was Khoudia’s turn to deadpan. “Shut up, Yuuri.”

“Did I strike a nerve?” They asked sarcastically.

“You know you did,” she said. “So, to end this conversation: Victor will not hate you. Now, are we watching The Rose of Versailles?” Yuuri nodded.

> Sophia: How’s your sleepover?

Yuuri took a picture of Khoudia’s laptop. Crunchyroll was buffering.

> Sophia: Idk what that is
> 
> : Crunchyroll
> 
> Sophia: Once again, idk what that is
> 
> : Anime streaming website

Yuuri showed their phone to Khoudia. She snickered.

> Sophia: You and Khadijah watch anime?
> 
> : That we do.

“Yuuri, I don’t think Crunchyroll is going to load tonight,” Khoudia said. “I think too many people are using the Wi-Fi right now.” She shrugged and closed her laptop. “I guess we can just go to sleep.”

“I’m not tired, though,” Yuuri said. She got out of bed and put her laptop in her bag. “What do I do?”

“Go to bed anyway,” Khoudia said as she got back in bed. She laid on her back and yawned. “See? Just lay down and go to sleep.” She closed her eyes.

“It’s not that easy for me,” they complained. “I literally _can’t_ sleep, though.”

“Well, why can’t you?”

“I don’t know.” They laid on their back and clasped their hands together. “It feels like I snorted cocaine with lesbians.” Khoudia rolled onto her side and looked at Yuuri.

“What?” Her face was all scrunched up. Yuuri playfully tapped her nose.

“Was that too real of an analogy?” Yuuri scratched their face. “Okay, how about the gas pedal of my brain being stuck?”

“Go to bed,” she said, already tired of this conversation. She closed her eyes again and put her hand between the pillows. After a few minutes, Khoudia was sound asleep. Yuuri briefly flirted with the idea of waking Khoudia up so they'd have someone to talk to, but decided against that. She can be ugly when woken up unnecessarily.

While Khoudia was in her peaceful sleep, Yuuri remained wide awake, staring at the ceiling.


	43. Golde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri got gold at the Rostelecom Cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got side-tracked and discovered that I really hate writing, but I also have nothing better to do with myself when there's a plague outside so I guess I'm just going to keep writing even though it makes me want to set myself on fire.

#

**(Saturday, 28 November 2015 – 6:12pm** **, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Khoudia skated fantastically today. Yuuri was with Chris when they were watching her skate, and they were blown away. At that moment, earlier today, they were so proud of their friend for being so amazing. As soon as they were able to get Khoudia alone, they picked her up and spun her around and let her know how proud they were. Chris was amazed, too. He was also very cordial to Khoudia when he met her.

But this time, it was Khoudia’s turn to be amazed and proud. Yuuri was getting ready for their free skate tonight. Chris had since split up with Yuuri to get prepared for his performance tonight. Yuuri and Khoudia had seen Michael earlier, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk. He was with Elizabeth and Sophia. Sophia wanted to speak to Yuuri and Khoudia, but Sophia’s desire to keep up with Michael and Elizabeth outweighed her desire to talk to Yuuri and Khoudia.

“Khoudia,” Yuuri said.

“Yeah?”

“Do I have to skate tonight?” Yuuri put on their bottoms. “I don’t want to do this.”

“You’re here and dressed,” Khoudia said as she passed Yuuri their top. “So you might as well.” Yuuri sighed. “You’ll be fine tonight. I know you will.” Khoudia patted Yuuri’s back. “The voices have stopped, and you’re not overwhelmed. You’ll be fine.” Khoudia stroked Yuuri’s face and took a good look at them. Their top was a bit crooked. She fixed it for them.

“And you’re certain that I’ll be fine?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t tell you this if I wasn’t sure.” Khoudia cracked her knuckles. “Come here,” she said. Yuuri sat down, and Khoudia stood behind them. Coach Cialdini was watching them like a hawk again, making sure that there weren’t any antics. One would think that he would be less tense today since Yuuri and Khoudia have been behaving themselves since they’ve arrived, but he isn’t. He’s as vigilant as ever tonight. Khoudia gelled Yuuri’s hair with the gel she disapproved of. “Do you want me to do your eyeliner, too?” Yuuri nodded as Khoudia finished up. The comb broke. She held it in front of their eyes. “This is what your hair did.”

“Nice,” Yuuri said. Khoudia put the broken comb in the garbage and wiped her hands. She reached for the eyeliner and uncapped it. Khoudia turned Yuuri’s chair around and sat in the chair next to theirs. She pulled her chair closer to theirs and started to work. “Khoudia?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you _sure_ that I have to skate tonight?”

“You have to,” Coach Cialdini said. “You’re already here, and you’re not going to embarrass me tonight.”

“But I _really_ do not want to do this tonight,” they complained.

“You have to,” Khoudia said. “As I said, you’re here, and you’re dressed. You might as well.” Khoudia’s mouth hung slightly ajar as she applied their eyeliner. “It won’t be so bad. You’ll be on the ice for four minutes and thirty seconds – forty seconds tops – and that’s hardly any time.”

“I know _that_ , but it is deeply unsettling to even think about being on ice right now.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes when you’re supposed to be doing my makeup.” She sucked her teeth. She switched to the other eye. “Are you done with my right eye?” Khoudia nodded. Yuuri wanted to roll their neck, but they also didn’t want to get accidentally stabbed in the eye with an eyeliner pen, so they restrained themselves. Khoudia stopped applying it and yawned. “I’m kind of tired, too.”

“Well, I told you to go to bed,” Khoudia said. “You wouldn’t listen.”

“And I told you that I couldn’t sleep.”

“How hard is it to just go to sleep?!” Khoudia said as she resumed the application. “You close your eyes and calm your soul, and you just sleep!”

“‘Calm your soul,’” Yuuri mocked.

“Shut up,” Khoudia said. She briefly went back to the left eye to define the wing. “I can’t be sure that your wings won’t look weird, so I’m going to tell you right now that your wings might look weird.” Yuuri shrugged.

“I wish Guang Hong were here so he could do my eyeliner,” Yuuri mused.

“Well, he isn’t here, and I’m the best you’ve got.” Khoudia went back to the right eye. “But I do wish that Adeola was here so she could do your makeup, though.”

“Would Adeola even be willing to do my makeup?” Yuuri questioned. Khoudia shook her head. “That’s what I thought.” Khoudia put the side of her hand on Yuuri’s forehead and tried to fix the wing of their left eye. She was painfully monodextrous when it comes to fine motor skills, which is why she didn’t try to use her left hand. “You should learn how to do makeup with your left hand,” Yuuri suggested.

“I can’t even _write_ with my left hand,” Khoudia said. “What makes you think I can do makeup with it?”

“The way you have your arm positioned makes me think that learning how to do things with your left hand would make this easier for you.” Yuuri looked up at Khoudia’s hand on their forehead. “Next you’re going to have to get on a chair to do my makeup, aren’t you?”

“No,” she said, “I can work from here.” Khoudia capped the eyeliner and grabbed the mascara. She started with Yuuri’s right eye. “I’m almost done. You’ll be able to warm up in a bit.” Then she switched to Yuuri’s left. Her hand was on their forehead again, trying to maneuver.

“Do you need me to do my left eye?”

“I can do it by myself.”

“No, you can’t,” Yuuri said. They took the wand from her and did their left eye. “Wasn’t that much easier?” They asked. Khoudia was making a face. “I’m going to warm up now.” Yuuri gave Khoudia the wand back and got up. They stretched their arms and bent over. Khoudia put Yuuri’s makeup away.

“Do you need help stretching?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri nodded. Khoudia went to help Yuuri stretch and warm up, and she helped them until it was time for them to go on.

#

**(Saturday, 28 November 2015 –** **8:45pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri cried a lot tonight. They cried once they stepped off the ice; they cried when they got their score; they cried when they received their medal. Chris hugged them once they got off the podium. They said that Victor is very proud of them and that they should text them immediately. Khoudia was raving about how their rink mates – and Olivia – are oh so amazed by Yuuri’s performance. Sophia, Elizabeth, and Khoudia were waiting by the dressing rooms again. They were going out to eat tonight. Elizabeth, Khoudia, and Sophia agreed on TGI Friday’s. Yuuri and Michael didn’t even think that there would be a TGI Friday’s in Moscow.

“We have to take our equipment back, though,” Michael said. “Also, are we taking an Uber there?” Michael was already out of his costume, but he was still toting his equipment around. Yuuri unzipped their sports jacket, and Khoudia held Yuuri’s shirt out for them.

“Do you need us to leave?” Elizabeth asked.

“That would be nice,” Khoudia said. She ushered Sophia, Elizabeth, and Michael out of Yuuri’s dressing room and closed the door behind them.

“Wait, Khadijah!” Sophia yelled. Khoudia opened the door again. “Why do you get to stay with Yuuri when he changes, and we can’t?” Khoudia shut the door in her face. “Rude!” She yelled from the other side of the door.

“Nineteen-year-olds are so precious,” Khoudia said. Yuuri couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic. “I can’t wait until new skaters join us. We’ll have more young blood around.”

“Now, when you say ‘precious’…,” Yuuri said. There was a knock at the door.

“Khadijah, answer my question!” Sophia yelled from the other side of the door. Khoudia giggled and locked the door. “Why do you get to stay, and we can’t?!” Yuuri put on their top and took off their shoes. Khoudia passed Yuuri their pants as they struggled to take off their bottoms. “Khadijah, answer me!”

“No, honey,” she sweetly said.

“Come on. This isn’t fair!”

“It’s totally fair,” Khoudia said. “I get to stay, and you can’t.” Yuuri finally got their costume bottoms off and took their pants from Khoudia. Khoudia picked up their costume and folded them.

“You know that that answer was terrible, right?” They stood up from their seat and pulled their pants up. They walked over to their shoes and struggled to put them on. “You know damn well that she is not going to accept that answer.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she scoffed. “I get to stay; she doesn’t.” Yuuri got their feet in their shoes and walked over to Khoudia. They bent down so that they were at eye level.

“How do you know that I want you to stay?” Yuuri asked.

“What? Are you going to tell me that you want me gone?” Khoudia sounded affronted. Yuuri chuckled. “That’s what I thought. You know you don’t want me gone.” Yuuri straightened up and stretched.

“Short people have the nastiest attitudes,” Yuuri said. They sat down and made sure their feet were snug in their shoes. They looked down at them and looked at their shoelaces. “I know this is probably laughable, but can you tie my shoes?”

“After all that shit you were talking?”

“Yes, even after all the shit I was talking,” Yuuri said. Khoudia sucked her teeth and looked at Yuuri’s shoes. “Come on,” Yuuri goaded. “Please. You know I love you.” Yuuri grabbed Khoudia’s face.

“You have a boyfriend; I’m going to tell.” Yuuri laughed. “I’ll tie your shoes, Jesus Christ,” she said. She knelt in front of Yuuri. “Give me your feet.” Yuuri gave her their right foot. “You know what I’m thinking of right now?” Khoudia asked.

“What?”

“‘The best of those who sin are those who repent,’” she said as she tied their shoe.

“You’ve been listening to Muslim podcasts, haven’t you?”

“Mm, no,” she said. “I’ve just been thinking about that. I remember hearing that when I was like thirteen at mosque, and I’ve thought about that since.” Khoudia finished tying Yuuri’s right shoe. She switched to the left. “I remember who told me that. It was Auntie Aafira. She was new and didn’t speak much English. It was kind of difficult to understand because it’s been years since I’ve spoken Wolof, and she spoke too fast for my pubescent ears to catch.” Khoudia finished tying Yuuri’s left shoe. “She also told me that I wasn’t fat enough and that I looked like a child, but that’s another story.” Khoudia got off of her knees and stretched her legs. She passed Yuuri their jacket as she spun. She walked over to the door and opened it so Michael, Elizabeth, and Sophia can get their coats. Yuuri stood behind Khoudia and patted her head. They also winked at Sophia as they did it. She seemed to be falling apart. Yuuri went to put their costume in their bag and took their coats off of the hooks. Khoudia took the hat out of her sleeve and put her coat on. Yuuri put on their hat and coat. 

Once Michael, Elizabeth, and Sophia got themselves situated, they left the rink. Michael was talking to Elizabeth, and Sophia was incensed about something. The walk to the hotel seemed to be quicker than yesterday’s.

When Yuuri got to their room, they sat down and briefly scrolled through their messages. They started with Adé.

> Adé: You know how Oedipus married their mom?
> 
> Adé: I’d marry you. Queer Oedipus.

Yuuri looked at their son’s messages and cringed. They could see what Adé was trying to say, but they also found it to be mind-blowing. So they hit them with an “I feel like you’re missing several key details that could make or break your analogy.” Adé sent Yuuri eye roll emojis and asked if they could take the praise they are trying to shower them with. Yuuri rolled their eyes and went to Olivia’s messages.

> Olivia: Congrats on your gold medal, baby.
> 
> Olivia: Send me a picture of it.
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Olivia: ((heart eyes emoji))
> 
> Olivia: I can’t wait to see you on Tuesday.

Yuuri read Olivia’s text and went to Tal’ at’s texts.

> Tal’ at: Masabeeh won’t stop crying
> 
> Tal’ at: Tell her to stop crying
> 
> : Tell her that I’ll buy her ice cream if she stops crying.
> 
> Tal’ at: That sounds like it won’t work at all but okay daddy-o I’m ah try that

Then Yuuri went to Phichit’s texts.

> Phichit: Okay so I’m going to run out and buy some wine for tonight
> 
> Phichit: Pray that I don’t get carded lmao
> 
> Phichit: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Phichit: Start praying
> 
> Phichit: Okay so I got the wine
> 
> Phichit: And I didn’t get carded
> 
> Phichit: what the fuck
> 
> Phichit: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Phichit: I drank a lot of wine, and it’s really hard to text
> 
> Phichit: But I am so broud of you. I’m gonna go sleepy time now xx zzz

Yuuri looked at the picture of boxed wine and Phichit’s face. His eyes were crinkled at the corner – either in joy or in confusion about what just happened. Then they reread Phichit’s final two texts. He’s a reasonably coherent drunk.

Khoudia knocked on their door. “Yuuri? You ready?” Yuuri opened their door. Khoudia had changed clothes. “Let’s go.” She grabbed on to Yuuri’s free arm and walked. Yuuri was still checking their messages. They had a text from Victor – after what seemed like forever.

> Victor: Congrats on your gold. Your performance was very nice tonight.
> 
> : Thank you ((heart emojis))
> 
> Victor: I hope you skate like that at the Grand Prix.

At that moment, it felt like Yuuri’s still-beating heart was ripped out of their chest. It’s not so much that Yuuri _forgot_ that they were going to be at the Grand Prix, but it’s more that they didn’t want to _remember_ that Victor was going to be at the Grand Prix. They felt stupid right there – Victor had been going to the Grand Prix for years now. He was _expected_ to be there. Yuuri, though? They were still an up-and-coming figure skater with only regional events under their belt.

> : The Grand Prix?
> 
> Victor: Yes
> 
> Victor: You know; the event you’ve been skating in preparation for the entire time
> 
> Victor: The reason you’re at the Rostelecom Cup
> 
> : Right, right.

The elevator came. Khoudia and Yuuri got on. She was looking at them text, but she took a break to press the button to the ground floor. “You’re a mess sometimes, Yuuri,” Khoudia said. “Did you genuinely forget why you’re here?”

“Kind of,” Yuuri said. “I don’t skate with an end goal in mind; I skate for the love of it. I would be skating even if I wasn’t competing.” Khoudia nodded. “It’s the same thing with ballet. I would dance even if I were told that I could never do it professionally.” 

“If you didn’t skate, would you still be dancing?” Khoudia asked and looked up at Yuuri. They nodded. “Maybe you’d be the principal ballerina in a company.” She giggled. “Maybe you’d still be in Japan, and one day I’d come to watch a performance. I’d be front row, and we’d make eye contact, and I’d get to go and meet you.”

“It seems like you’ve given this thought,” Yuuri said.

> Victor: Did you forget that you’re skating to go to the Grand Prix?
> 
> : Kind of. I’ve been thinking of a lot of things recently, so that’s taken the back stove eye.
> 
> : But thank you for reminding me that I’m going to the Grand Prix.

“I have! I love thinking of AU situations!” The woman who got on looked at Khoudia. “In another AU, we’re all bandmates in an indie band! You play the drums, and I’m the lead singer! Adé is our sound guy, and Phichit plays the guitar!”

“But Phichit doesn’t know how to play the guitar,” Yuuri pointed out.

“I haven’t decided if Phichit plays the guitar _badly_ or if he just knows how to play it in this universe.” Khoudia rubbed her nose. “But I can tell you that if Phichit plays the guitar badly, everyone on SoundCloud would eat it up and praise him for his avant-garde style.”

“Why am I the drummer?”

“I don’t know. You seem like a drums kind of person in my mind.” Yuuri sucked their teeth, and it didn’t come out right. “That’s what you get for questioning my AUs.” Yuuri chuckled. The elevator reached the ground floor; they got off. “And Masabeeh and Tal’ at are two groupies of ours! They let us sleep on their sofa when we practice at their place!” Yuuri smiled. “We all eat Chinese food together, and it’s like what we do now!” They stood by the door. Khoudia’s eyes were shining. At that moment, Yuuri thought she looked beautiful. “Yuuri,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we’re going to the Grand Prix together,” she said. “And it’s both of our first times, too.” She smiled. “What should we do when we go to the Grand Prix?” She asked. Then she gasped. “We should get macarons!” A woman at the desk looked at Khoudia. “Tell me that we can get macarons when we get to Marseilles!”

“Do they even sell them in Marseilles?”

“It’d be dumb if we were in France, and they didn’t sell macarons,” Khoudia said. Out of the corner of Yuuri’s eye, they spotted Michael, Elizabeth, and Sophia. “So, as soon as we drop off our bags, we’re going macaron hunting.”

“Will they even be open when we get there?” They noticed that Coach Harcourt’s skaters stopped walking; they seemed to be discussing something. “You know most of the shops will be closed by the time we get there, right?” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. She seemed irked.

“Fine then,” she said, “we’ll go first thing the day after we land.”

“No breakfast?”

“We can get breakfast after.” Coach Harcourt’s skaters finally approached Khoudia and Yuuri.

“Are you ready to go?” Sophia asked. Yuuri and Khoudia nodded. “This time, we’re waiting _inside_ ,” she said.

“Who’s getting the Uber?” Khoudia asked. “Are we walking?”

“We can walk,” Elizabeth said. “You two aren’t opposed to walking to TGI Friday’s, are you?” Yuuri and Khoudia shook their heads. “Great, so we’re walking!”

“You didn’t consult _me_ about walking, Eliza,” Sophia said.

“Why do I have to consult you? You’re coming along no matter what we do,” Elizabeth said. Sophia rolled her eyes. “So, we’re all walking. Onward and upward!” Elizabeth grabbed Michael’s wrist and pointed to the ceiling, posing triumphantly. Khoudia held on to Yuuri’s arm tighter. Sophia looked like the odd one out, not holding on to anyone. She seemed to retreat into her coat – and herself – by the time the group stepped outside of the hotel.

> Olivia: So wyd, baby?
> 
> : I’m going out to eat with Khoudia and some skaters.
> 
> Olivia: Take a picture of Khoudia for me.

“Khoudia,” Yuuri said. She looked up at them. “Smile for me.” She smiled, and Yuuri took a flick.

“What was that for?” Khoudia asked. “If it’s for Olivia, don’t send her that.”

“Then what do I send her?”

“Hold on,” she said. She took out her phone and sent Yuuri several flicks. “Send her one of those. I look good in those.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and chuckled. They looked through the selfies.

“Did you take all of these today?”

“Mm-hm,” she said. “I thought I looked cute, so I had to immortalize it.” Yuuri smiled. “Don’t you think I look cute?”

“I always think you look cute,” Yuuri said. Khoudia giggled. They lightly stroked the underside of her chin. Sophia was looking on at them. “Fix your coat.” Khoudia’s coat wasn’t wholly zipped at the top. Yuuri struggled to zip it with two fingers, so they left that for Khoudia to do.

The walk to TGI Friday’s felt like it was shorter than it was predicted to be. They were seated relatively quickly and received their menus. Then the confusion set in.

“What?” Yuuri said, looking at Elizabeth, Michael, and Sophia. They looked at the menu and took out their phone.

“We can’t read the menu,” Michael said.

“Didn’t you notice us using Google Translate last night?” Khoudia asked. She flipped through the menu. Coach Harcourt’s skaters looked dumbfounded. “Don’t you have Google Translate on your phone?”

“We live in England. Why would we need Google Translate?” Sophia asked.

“Because,” Khoudia said, “how else will you read the signs that aren’t in English?”

“We don’t,” Elizabeth said. “We just don’t read the signs.” Yuuri looked at the menu and turned the page. “We’re subjects of the empire where the sun never sets. The fuck do we need to use Google Translate for?”

“How elitist are you?” Khoudia whispered. She saw something on the menu that she liked. She went to Google Translate and translated it. Then she went to the online menu. She found it on there and decided that she wanted to try it. “Look, y’all can sit there and look dumb all you want, but I know that this is a non-problem. Just use Google Translate and get your head out of your asses.” Coach Harcourt’s skaters looked at Khoudia like she was spouting several different heads that spoke their most shameful sins. “Baby, did you decide on what you want yet?” She asked Yuuri.

“No, not yet,” Yuuri said as they turned the page of their menu. “These burgers look great, though.”

“I know, right?” She said. “I think I already know what I want.”

> : So you’re just going to ignore Coach Harcourt’s skaters?
> 
> Khoudia: As you say… ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> : You’re messy lol
> 
> Khoudia: I know lmao

“Show me what you’re getting,” Yuuri said. Khoudia pointed it out on her menu. They whistled. “Looks good.”

“I hope it’s good,” said she. “The Italian one looks really good, too.” She smiled. “You should get the Italian one. Just saying.” Khoudia put down her menu and grabbed her phone. “If I didn’t think I’d go into shock eating it _and_ the Jack Daniels burger, I’d eat them both.”

“I believe you.” Khoudia giggled.

“So just download Google Translate?” Sophia asked.

“Or go to their website. Their menu is on there.” Khoudia unlocked her phone.

> Khoudia: They probably all think I’m the aggressive black girl now lol
> 
> : Didn’t they always think of you like that?
> 
> Khoudia: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> : Dude smdh
> 
> Khoudia: Lmao

Yuuri looked at their messages. They’ve been avoiding them.

> : [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Olivia: Myyy ((heart eyes emojis))
> 
> Olivia: She’s gotten so beautiful
> 
> Olivia: Her cheeks have gotten so fat
> 
> Olivia: I love them
> 
> Olivia: Tell her to call me ASAP

Yuuri showed their phone to Khoudia. She smirked in satisfaction and flipped her loose braids. “Keep texting her,” Khoudia said.

“Will do,” Yuuri said. “But you’re not going to call her.” That came out as less of a question and more of a statement.

“You think I’m actually going to call her?” Khoudia asked.

“Well, no,” Yuuri said, “I don’t think you will, truth be told.”

“Exactly,” she said. “I’m not going to call her. Fuck I look like calling her?” She scoffed. She pulled her loose braids back and tucked them into the scarf she had around her braids. Yuuri looked at Coach Harcourt’s skaters. In their mind, they seemed to be like toddlers learning to walk, feeling their way around the environment. They were making a variety of confused faces.

“Eliza, does this look good to you?” Sophia asked, pointing to something on her phone.

“I’d eat it,” Elizabeth said. Then she passed the question to Michael. “What about you?”

“Only if they didn’t add peppers to it,” Michael said.

“That’s disrespectful to peppers,” Sophia said. “I know you hate peppers, but you’re missing out.” Michael shrugged and looked at their phone. “They’re so good.” Michael shrugged. “You’re going to ask for your burger not to have peppers, aren’t you?” He shrugged again.

The waitress came and took their order. Yuuri and Khoudia didn’t think that Coach Harcourt’s skaters were ready to order, but they surprisingly were. They all ordered their meal and ate, making conversation amongst each other.

#

**(Saturday, 28 November 2015 –** **10:20pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri insisted that Khoudia sleeps in her room tonight. They told her that they were feeling fine tonight and that they didn’t need her to stay with them anymore. They would miss their sleepovers, and they considered that they might want her there, but they decided that it was for the best. Khoudia needed to sleep in her room, and Yuuri needed to process the looks that Sophia was giving them. They needed to consult their journal, and they couldn’t do that properly with Khoudia nagging them to go to bed.

“Yuuri?” Khoudia knocked on their door. “Are you in bed yet?”

“Not yet,” they said as they closed their journal. They walked to their door and opened it. “I’m right here.”

“Oh, good,” she said. “Remember to take your medicine and go to bed.” Yuuri nodded. “Sleep well. Text me if you need me!” Yuuri nodded again. She hugged Yuuri and reached up to touch their head. “I’m serious. If you need me _at all_ , text me.”

“I’ll text you if I need you. I promise.”

“Good. Goodnight, ma raison,” she said and turned to go back to her room. Yuuri stood there, looking at her closed door. Once they snapped himself out of their daze, they went back into their room and returned to their journal. Their journal was filling out nicely, they thought. They had so much to tell it about the past few days.

> Victor: So wyd?
> 
> : Journaling.
> 
> Victor: Aren’t you having a sleepover?
> 
> : I told Khoudia to sleep in her room tonight.
> 
> Victor: Oh good. I can call you now.

Yuuri’s phone rang, and they picked up. “Nothing stopped you from calling me,” Yuuri said. They didn’t let Victor get in a “hello” or a “how are you?” before they started talking.

“Khoudia’s presence stopped me from calling,” Victor said. “I didn’t want to come between you two.”

“How could you come between us? You’re not even here.” Yuuri closed their journal. They decided to put it away. They were done writing tonight.

“I didn’t want to make you choose between enjoying her and talking to me.” Yuuri got a notification telling them that their battery was low. They internally panicked.

“Hold on, let me call you back,” Yuuri said.

“Why? We just started talking.”

“I know, but my phone is about to die, and I need to charge it,” Yuuri told them. “I’ll call you back, though.”

“Okay,” Victor said, sounding slightly annoyed. Yuuri ended the call and connected their phone to their charger. They got their laptop, made sure it was plugged up, and logged in. They called Victor.

“Hey,” Yuuri said.

“You called back,” Victor said.

“I told you that I would.” Yuuri shifted in their seat and looked at Victor. He was sitting somewhere. “You could’ve called me sooner.”

“I could have,” Victor said. “So, how was your day after you skated?” Victor was looking at everyone and everything but Yuuri. “Did you do anything?”

“I went out to eat with Khoudia and some other skaters.” Yuuri picked up a pen off the floor. “Did you know that there’s a TGI Friday’s in Moscow? Because I didn’t know that until tonight. And the food options were really good. I don’t know what I expected, but I enjoyed it and –”

“You’re rambling,” Victor said. Yuuri blinked. “Why are you rambling?”

“I have no clue,” Yuuri said. They tossed the pen into the air and aspired to catch it; it landed behind the desk. There goes Yuuri’s stimming object. “I… I really have no clue.” Yuuri leaned their chair back so that it was on the back two legs. They started to tap their knuckles on the table. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.” They yawned. “But how are you? What have you been up to?”

“Training and reading,” Victor said. “And thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Yuuri asked. There was silence. “I’m not going to get an answer, am I?”

“No,” Victor said.

“Fair enough,” Yuuri said. They set all four chair legs back on the floor and put their head in their hands.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I am not. I mean, I don’t think I am.” They weren’t hearing any voices tonight, but they felt – for lack of a better word – off. “I don’t know. Ignore me.” Yuuri leaned back in their chair and steadied it on two legs. They closed their eyes and focused on the sounds. They could hear a car outside.

“Have you been sleeping?” Victor asked.

“I can’t sleep.” Yuuri opened their eyes and looked at Victor. He was looking at them intently. He made a gesture signifying that they should continue. “I haven’t slept properly since Thursday.” If they could spin a four-legged chair, they would have spun until the spinning made them exhausted. They would have turned and ascended, and this out-of-their-head feeling would be more than welcome; it would have been fitting.

But it didn’t fit this time.

They felt like their head was going 90 MPH and like they were – in plain terms – somewhere else. That speed and their removedness from everything was causing their inability to sleep. They rationalized that once that thing ended, they would be able to feel normal again.

“You need to sleep,” Victor said.

“I _know_ ,” Yuuri said. “Khoudia’s been nagging me nonstop to go to bed – “Yuuri, go to bed” and “Yuuri, go the fuck to sleep” and “why the hell aren’t you asleep?!” – but I really can’t sleep no matter how much she chastises me. I don’t know what’s going on.” The chair landed on all four legs and startled Yuuri. “I should call her in here. Maybe she’d make sleeping easier.”

“Will she?” Victor asked. He was majorly questioning Yuuri’s statement.

Yuuri chuckled. “You’re right. I don’t know why I thought that she would.” They shrugged and got up. “I’m going to start drawing.”

“And I’m going to watch.” Yuuri grabbed the strap of their carry on bag with their toes like they’ve seen Adé do and pulled it towards them. Adé seemed to have prehensile feet; they were able to do simple yet fascinating things with their toes. They took their sketchbook out of their bag and opened it to a fresh page. They knew exactly what they wanted to draw tonight and how they wanted to draw it, and they were sure that they had the required skillset to make it happen.

They started strong and maintained that ecstasy and vigor throughout. Yuuri didn’t stop drawing until they were done. Victor had watched them the entire time, enraptured in the art making art. But Yuuri wasn’t done; they wanted to do more. So much more. They didn’t have access to their full creative arsenal, so what they _could_ do was limited in scope, but Yuuri had ideas. None of them were ideas that Phichit would approve of, but they were ideas.

“Are you going to draw some more?”

“Drawing isn’t cutting it,” Yuuri said. They played with the spirals that kept their sketchbook bound. They grabbed their pencil and wrote Khoudia’s name on a blank sheet. They were planning on drawing her once they get off of FaceTime with Victor. Yuuri tilted their chair back so that it was on its back legs.

“Why do you keep doing that?” He was referring to leaning back in their chair. “You’ve already fallen once.”

“Is that considered falling?” Yuuri asked.

“You could have fallen,” Victor said.

“But I didn’t,” Yuuri said. Yuuri closed their eyes and tilted their chair further back.

“Yuuri, stop doing that,” Victor said. They stopped immediately. “I should let you get to bed. You’re acting weird, and you need to sleep.” 

“Am I?” Yuuri asked. Victor was uncomfortably silent. It bothered Yuuri immensely. “Did you listen to the song?”

“No, I didn’t,” he said, “but what does that have to do with you going to bed?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to know if you listened to the song.” Yuuri drew their right knee to their chest. “I know now that you didn’t.”

“So, you’re going to bed now.” Yuuri laughed heartily. “I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” they said once they were able to calm himself. “But you seem to be of the idea that I’m going to go to sleep.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what’s hard to comprehend about the statement ‘I can’t sleep,’” Yuuri said. “I really can’t sleep, and I don’t know what’s preventing me from doing so.” Yuuri internally rolled their eyes at the last part of their statement. They know why; they need to stop.

“Can you try to sleep? For me?” Victor was pleading. Yuuri looked at Victor’s soft features and felt themselves soften in the process. Somehow, everything fell still. They still felt like their mind was going 90 MPH, but their soul felt still. “Will you?”

Yuuri took a deep breath and said, “I’ll try.” They briefly looked at their fingertips. They’d have to get lost in their fingerprints later. “I suppose I’ll let you go now.”

“I should be saying that to you,” Victor said. “I’ll text you.” Yuuri nodded. They ended the call and looked at their bed. They didn’t think “just going to sleep” would work, but they decided to try. 

> Victor: I wasn’t done talking.
> 
> : Whoops ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> : Do you want me to call you back?
> 
> Victor: No, go to bed.
> 
> Victor: Don’t even read my texts. Just go to bed.

Yuuri rolled their eyes at Victor’s nagging. They told him that they were going to go to bed so they decided that they would. Yuuri was already in their pajamas, and they were already dreadfully exhausted.

When Yuuri decided to go to bed, it was already close to 1am. They got their pen from behind the desk and placed it parallel to their laptop. They got in bed and looked up at their ceiling. The ceiling was the same color as yesterday.

#


	44. Back Bend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the banquet for the Rostelecom Cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing but I'm still giving you my garbage. Sorry.

#

**(Sunday, 29 November 2015 – 7:55am** **, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri didn’t sleep through the night. They got roughly three hours of sleep, and they’ve been up since 3:37am. Once they woke up, they didn’t even consider going back to sleep; instead, they decided to draw Khoudia like they told themselves. They finished it, but they didn’t know what they wanted to do with it now. They had the idea that they could frame it and give it to her for American Christmas, but Khoudia doesn't celebrate Christmas, and they like it too much to give it to her and face never seeing it again. Yuuri had more than enough time to decide if they were going to give it to her. Right now, they decided that they weren’t going to tell her about it and keep this work of art to themselves.

There was a knock at their door. Yuuri wondered who it could be but mentally kicked themselves for thinking that. They already knew who it could be. They got up and opened the door.

“Ndéwénati!” Khoudia yelled as soon as the door was open. She pounced on them, wrapping her legs around their waist. Yuuri held her and carried her to their bed. She bounced when she landed. “Good morning! An do siina kurumba!” Khoudia rolled onto her stomach and grinned. “Joyeux anniversaire, ma raison,” she said with a normal tone of voice. “I hope you have many more.”

“Did you take your shower yet?” Yuuri asked as they sat on their floor.

“Not yet,” she said, freeing her braids. She grabbed Yuuri’s pillow and held it to her chest. “How’d you sleep? Did you sleep?”

“I slept terribly,” Yuuri said; she grinned. She was glad that they were able to get some shut-eye. “What about you?” Khoudia looked down from her perch on the bed and smiled.

“It was different not being in here,” she said.

“Surely it couldn’t have been. You were only here for two days.” Yuuri pointed out.

"I know, but I got used to it so quickly." Khoudia yawned, and her nose crinkled. "We should have a sleepover when we go to Marseille." She smiled. "But first, the Birthday Baby should get breakfast." She yawned again. "I'll leave you to get ready." She got off of the bed and stretched towards the ceiling. "Wait, I should sing ‘happy birthday' to you!" Khoudia cleared her throat, and Yuuri got up to stop her.

“You don’t need to. I’m too old for that.”

“But it’s your birthday. You’re only twenty-three once.”

“I mean, not necessarily,” Yuuri said. “I look young. I can pass for twenty-three for several more years before my age starts to show.” Khoudia sighed.

"Fine, I won't sing it, but we're celebrating. Somehow." Khoudia hugged Yuuri and gamboled out the way she came in. Yuuri laid on the floor and rubbed their eyes. Then they yawned. They’d sleep if they could, but they were going to breakfast soon.

Yuuri jumped in the shower and bathed. They felt so much better feeling hot water and soap on their skin. If showers could cure hypomania, Yuuri would be cured, and they wouldn't have to bother with telling Luzia about all of this. But Luzia was probably going to therapist-panic and call in Noêmia. Then Noêmia would psychiatrist-panic with her, and then they would formulate an attack strategy. Yuuri didn't want them to develop an attack strategy; they just want this to be over.

Yuuri got out of the shower and dried off in the steamy bathroom. They dressed quickly and sat at their desk, waiting for Khoudia to text them. Yuuri was playing Candy Crush when Khoudia tried to open their door. They got up and answered it.

“Ready?” Khoudia’s hair was tucked into her still open coat. Yuuri put on their shoes and coat, and they walked to the elevator. Khoudia pushed the down button. "Alright, Birthday Baby, where should we go to eat?" She asked as she zipped up her coat and put on her gloves.

“We can go to the hotel’s café,” Yuuri suggested. Khoudia looked up at them. She was looking equally shocked and disappointed both because of their answer and _not_ because of their answer.

“The hotel has a café?” Yuuri nodded. “Why haven’t we gone there sooner?” Yuuri shrugged. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“I thought you knew,” they said. Khoudia sighed and put her head on their chest. “If you have a place in mind, we can go there instead.”

"No, no," Khoudia said. "If the Birthday Baby wants to go to the hotel café, we'll go to the hotel café." The elevator came, and they got on. Khoudia pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Hey there, you two,” Chris’ voice said. Khoudia and Yuuri looked behind themselves. “Didn’t expect to catch you two here.” Chris was smiling. “Out to breakfast?”

“We are,” Khoudia said. “I’m presuming that you are, too.” Chris nodded. Khoudia moved closer to Yuuri, clutching their arm. Chris smiled at her.

“Where are you going for breakfast?” Chris asked, moving to stroke Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri felt their face warm; they looked away from Chris.

“We’re going to the hotel café,” Khoudia told him.

“Don’t go there. Their pancakes are terrible,” Chris said. “Why don’t you two come with me? We can have a nice breakfast together.” Chris was beaming.

“What do you want to do, Yuuri?” Khoudia asked. Her voice was low. “Do you want to go?”

“Why are you asking me like you’re not going with me?” Yuuri asked her.

Khoudia sucked her teeth. “He’s _your_ friend. I don’t know if you want to be with him when I’m here.” She took out her phone to give herself something to do. “I can leave if you want me to.”

“He extended the invitation to the both of us, Khoudia,” Yuuri said. “We’re both going.” Yuuri started to play with their fingers. “Breakfast would be nice, Christophe.” Chris smiled at Yuuri and Khoudia and threw his arms around the two of them.

"I'm so glad you two are coming to breakfast with me!" Chris let go of them and zipped up his coat. "You two are so cute; it'd be a shame if I let an opportunity for a nice sit-down slide past me." Yuuri didn’t look at Chris. “Yuuri,” Chris cajoled, “why aren’t you looking me in the eye?”

“I don't look people in the eye, Christophe,” Yuuri muttered. They inched closer to Khoudia. Chris arched an eyebrow briefly but then smiled. 

“Didn’t I tell you that you don’t have to call me ‘Christophe’? Just call me ‘Chris,’ honey.” The elevator stopped on the third floor. One of the female skaters got on. Yuuri recently followed her on Instagram; if their memory serves them correctly, her name was Melissa, and she posted a lot about her Welsh Corgi. 

“Alright, Chris,” Yuuri said. Yuuri looked him square in the nose. That was as close as Chris is going to get eye contact from Yuuri.

“Ah, there we go,” Chris said. He smiled and stroked Yuuri’s cheek. They took a deep breath and started thinking of sutras. They weren’t going to let Chris unnerve them today; they were going to go out to breakfast with Chris and Khoudia and then head out for a walk to clear themselves. “Victor sure has good taste, picking out someone so cute.” He snickered. “So aloof, so seductive. I love it.” Yuuri sheepishly smiled. “I didn’t think Victor would be into a –” Chris cut himself off and smirked. “Well, you know,” he said as the elevator came to a stop. Yuuri _didn’t_ know. They had no clue what Chris was implying, but he seemed to be saying that Victor has a type, and Yuuri is it. Somehow. They got out and walked towards the door. Yuuri had something new to tell their journal.

They walked to the café, Yuuri and Chris making light conversation between themselves. Khoudia was an outsider listening in. It wasn't a secret that she felt uncomfortable when she was around Chris. She felt something in her stomach that uncoiled and recoiled whenever she was around him. She was sure that he was a nice guy, but she couldn't make herself comfortable around him. Khoudia wasn't sure if that was chalked up to her being generally shy around new people or if this was her gut feeling telling her that something was off about him. She didn't think that there was something off with Chris. So she just assumed that it was her shyness that was making her feel this way. 

They opened the door to Golubka and took a seat by the window. Chris was tempted to take their hand and make them squirm in their seat and play with them, but he decided not to get them into a precarious predicament. So he settled for giving them looks instead. Looks are harder to interpret, and an onlooker can't easily gauge what's _not_ being said at first glance. This is a game that Yuuri is going to lose.

“So, how was that sleepover?” Chris asked. A waitress came out and gave them menus and glasses of water. They immediately started to look through it with their cellphones in hand. “It was such a shame that there wasn’t enough room for me to join.” Khoudia was still clutching on to Yuuri’s arm.

“It was fine,” Yuuri said.

“What did you two do?” Yuuri looked at him. “I hope fun stuff,” Chris said with a wink.

"We tried to watch anime, but the hotel Wi-Fi was acting up, so we went to bed," Yuuri said. They shrugged apathetically.

“ _I_ went to bed; Yuuri stayed up drawing,” Khoudia explained.

“Why do you make it sound like I’m actively avoiding sleep?” Yuuri asked Khoudia. “I’d sleep if I could, but I can’t. So I just engaged in a quiet activity. I thought this would make you happy.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Also, I waited an hour to start drawing so.”

“You and your pencils kept me up half the night. Don’t play,” she said. Yuuri shrugged. “Don’t shrug when I’m talking to you!”

“This is cute. This is a cute argument,” Chris said. Yuuri and Khoudia stopped talking and looked at each other. “Don’t stop because of me. I’m just a simple spectator.” Khoudia giggled. “There’s a smile.”

“So, how’s your partner?” Yuuri asked. “Dominique, right?”

“Domo is fine,” Chris said. “Domo” must be a nickname. “He’s taking care of Jana while I’m gone.”

“So, I’m presuming that chocolate ice cream controversy was just a minor scandal.” Yuuri and Chris giggled. Chris nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.” Chris put down his menu and phone; he’s decided on what he wanted. Chris was smiling. Yuuri felt a foot run up their lower inner leg. “I'm happy to hear that,” Yuuri choked out. Chris picked up his phone and started texting. Their cellphone buzzed. 

> Chris: I’m more interested in your friend today.
> 
> Chris: Why is she so quiet today?
> 
> : She’s just like that around new people.

Yuuri looked at Chris. He nodded. Khoudia was nose deep in her menu. Of course, she wouldn’t be seeing what was going on between Yuuri and Chris. Chris stopped his foot from roaming further up Yuuri’s leg and returned it to under his chair. “So our Vitya told me that you’re an art major,” Chris said. “How’s that going?”

“It’s going well,” Yuuri said.

“What kind of art do you do?”

“I study fine art, but I do a lot of traditional drawing.”

“Traditional drawing?”

“Drawings using paper and pens or pencils,” Khoudia clarified. She closed her menu. “Just say that you _draw_ , Yuuri,” Khoudia said to them. “Not everyone is going to be aware of the art terms you use.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri said in response to Khoudia. “So I do that. Sometimes I paint. Sometimes I animate.”

“What do you do most of the time?” Chris asked.

“I think and procrastinate,” Yuuri said. They put down their menu and closed it. “It’s _a lot_ of thinking and procrastinating. But sometimes there’s actual work being done.”

“Is it rewarding?”

“Very.” Yuuri smiled, thinking of the excellent thing they created this morning. "It's such an exhilarating feeling when you see something you've created, and it's just so… good. Oh so good." Yuuri sounded breathless when they were talking. It was like they had an incredibly satisfying orgasm. 

> Khoudia: That sounds like mania talking, baby.

Yuuri looked over at Khoudia. She shrugged. “Well, it does," she said. "Fix your life, baby. Just fix your life." She tsk-tsked and shook her head. "Give it on up to Him, and He will heal you." Khoudia snickered and nudged Yuuri. Chris was but a silent observer in this moment.

“Are you religious, Khoudia?” Chris asked.

“Depends on the day,” she said as she played with the corner of her menu. “Did you figure out what you want?” She asked Yuuri.

“I think I want the English breakfast,” Yuuri said. “You?”

“I’ll take the rice porridge. The fitness breakfast looked good, but I didn’t want my middle class to show again when the waitress comes, and I ask her about it.”

“Rice porridge,” Yuuri repeated. Khoudia nodded.

"But it has this thing with it, and I don't know what it is." Yuuri arched a brow. “I can’t pronounce it.” She opened her menu and pointed at her selection. “That.”

“Well, of course, you can’t pronounce it,” Yuuri said. “It’s in Russian.”

“Well, I know _that_ , but I can’t pronounce it even in English.” Khoudia unlocked her phone and opened Google Translate. She pointed at the word. “That’s the word.” Khoudia bit her lip. “Can you say it?” Yuuri shook their head. “I guess we’ll figure out what it is when I get it.”

“What about you, Chris?” Yuuri asked. “What are you getting?”

“Eggs Benedict.” Yuuri nodded. Yuuri felt Chris’ foot caress his calves. Chris winked. Yuuri blinked and made a face of confusion. They closed their menu and looked at their fingertips. Soon the waitress came and took their order. She took their glasses of water with her back to the kitchen. Yuuri hadn’t realized that Khoudia and Chris had touched their waters. They forgot they even existed.

“So, what are you two doing when you get back to… Detroit, was it?”

“It’s Detroit,” Yuuri said. "And I don't know. I'm hoping to go to sleep, but my roommate is probably going to want me to eat with him and tell him everything." 

“You have a roommate?” Chris asked; Yuuri nodded. "That's cute. What about you, Khoudia?"

“I live at home,” she said.

“Well, I _know_ you live at home, but do you have a roommate?”

"If my parents and siblings are considered roommates, then yes." Chris laughed. It was cute, and he snorted a little. "And I don't know. I'll probably spend time with my sisters or something when I get home. It's not like they'll let me leave once I drop off my bags." Chris nodded. "What about you?"

“I live with my Jana.”

“Jana?” Khoudia asked.

“His cat,” Yuuri said. Chris removed his foot from their calves. Khoudia grinned. She’s just found another cat parent to bond with. Khoudia placed her unlock finger on the home button of her phone and went to her photo album. She has a separate collection just for her beloved Hadiya. She was waiting to show Hadiya off to Christophe; she just wanted to know when she should strike.

“Do you have a cat, Khoudia?” Chris asked. She grabbed her phone and showed Chris a picture of her Hadiya. Hadiya was an orange tabby with a crook in their tail and a small tear in their left ear. She was a timid, sweet something. "Oh my, she looks so lovely." Chris unlocked his phone and went to his photo album. He scrolled a bit before he found the group of pictures he was looking for. "This is Jana." Khoudia gasped, and her eyes sparkled. She was in love. 

“She’s so sweet! Look at her ears!” Khoudia clutched her chest. “Oh, oh, Subhanallah.” She wiped her eyes. “Your cat is so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Chris said. “Your Hadiya is gorgeous, too.” Khoudia took her phone back and put it to sleep. “Do you have a cat, Yuuri?”

“I have a dog.”

“Let’s see the precious!” Chris beamed. “Show us, show us,” he chanted playfully. Yuuri unlocked their phone and went to their texts. They went to the last picture of Vicchan that Mari sent. “Is that your precious?”

“This is my precious,” Yuuri said. “We call him Vicchan.”

“You know, Victor has a poodle, too,” Chris said. “But she’s in Petersburg right now.”

“I know!” Yuuri gushed and internally kicked themselves. They didn’t want to let their fanboy show, but it was too late. They were gushing; they let their façade slip. They might as well geek out and start crying about Victor’s costume last season and how their hair flip made Yuuri weak in the knees. Chris giggled. Did he not see the crack in Yuuri’s mask? They cleared their throat. Let’s try this again. “His poodle is so cute.”

“Makkachin is so sweet, too,” he said. “To be honest, I’m not the biggest dog fan, but – if I had a dog – I’d want a dog like Makkachin.” Chris ran the instep of his foot along Yuuri’s right calf. He winked again. “Animals are just so precious and pure. Don’t you agree?” Yuuri and Khoudia nodded. “I’m glad we’re all in agreement about this.” Chris smiled. “So, what do you two want to discuss now?” He asked. Yuuri and Khoudia were silent. “Come on, surely you two have something to talk about!” They remained silent. Chris looked at Khoudia and then at Yuuri. “Nothing?” Yuuri shook their head. Khoudia kept her eyes on the lines on the table. “Man, what a tough crowd,” Chris murmured.

Breakfast went on like this. Chris would initiate a conversation with Yuuri and Khoudia. Khoudia would say a few things – not many though, just a few – and Yuuri would try to drag the corpse out some more. The conversation would die, and Chris would look at Yuuri and Khoudia, hoping that someone would say something – anything – to spark a new discussion. Eventually, Chris asked if they were usually like this together; they gave him a resounding "no" because they aren't, but why the both of them couldn't be arsed to carry on a conversation with Chris was lost on all three of them. 

They paid for their food, and Chris decided to go his separate way from Khoudia and Yuuri. He felt that it would be intrusive to impose his presence on the two. He left them as warmly and cordially as he came.

Because Yuuri and Khoudia couldn't decide on what to do, they decided to head back to the hotel. It wasn't like they would be able to do much; Khoudia's free skate was today, and she had to head back to get ready. After that, they would get ready for the Rostelecom Cup Banquet and force themselves to socialize with their fellow skaters because Coach Cialdini asked them to.

#

**(Sunday, 29 November 2015 –** **3:24pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

After Khoudia’s excellent skate, Yuuri and Khoudia returned to their room to get ready for the banquet tonight. Yuuri was setting their clothes out when Khoudia yelled. They got up from their suitcase and looked. If Yuuri could hear her, so could the others on the floor and Yuuri didn’t want any scenes. Yuuri opened their door before Khoudia could even start knocking. She seemed to be incensed.

“What’s going on?” They asked, leaning on the doorframe.

“My sisters did me dirty!” She yelled.

“You don’t have to yell, ma perfection,” they said. “I’m right in front of you. What did your sisters do?”

“I gotta show you how dirty they did me,” she said. She grabbed Yuuri by the wrist and pulled them into her room. She went back to their room and closed their door. Khoudia grabbed the dress off of her bed and held it in front of her. It was a scarlet red, floor-length, yoke gown that had three-quarter sleeves. It had an art nouveau lace overlay of the same color. Right now, it seemed like an okay dress to Yuuri. “Do you see what’s wrong with this dress?!”

“Not really,” Yuuri said.

“Maybe I should put it on to show you.” She tossed the dress on Yuuri, and she started to take off her shirt.

“Khoudia, you don’t have to take off your clothes. It’s fine.”

“No, no, no, I’m going to show you,” she insisted. She threw her shirt on the floor and started to take off her pants. She kicked those off and grabbed the dress. She struggled to get it on, fighting the fabric. Yuuri got up and pulled it on her. She tried to adjust the sleeves of the dress, but it didn't bow to her. The dress wasn't zipped in the back, and it bunched in some places. "Do you see what I mean?!" Not only did the dress cover her legs, but it also graced the floor with inches of its nylon and lace fabric. "And the color is gross, too! Doesn't go with my skin at all!" Khoudia let out a yell. Yuuri sat there, their shoulders hunched up. They didn’t know what to do. “We need to go shopping. Right now. I refuse to wear this tonight.”

“Khoudia, is the dress really so terrible?” She glared at them. "Yikes, sorry." Khoudia started to strip out of the dress. It satisfyingly hit the floor. "We'll go shopping." Khoudia put her shirt back on and then her pants. "Do you have something in mind already?"

“Yes,” Khoudia said. “I know you’ll love anything I have in mind, but I feel like Ciao Ciao would chastise me to death for it.”

“So, tell me what you’re thinking.” Khoudia put on her Columbia jacket and then her scarf.

“Grab my purse, baby,” she said. Yuuri passed it to her. She went in her carry-on bag and put her lotion, Blistex, and wallet in her purse. Then she put her purse on her coat. “Maybe we can do some shopping for you, too.”

“Why me?”

“Because I was going through your bags, and you brought your ugly tie with you.” Yuuri deadpanned. "It's an ugly tie, ma perfection. You need to get rid of it." She put her hand on the doorknob. "But, to be sure, let's look at your clothes." She flung her door open, and she triumphantly walked across the hall to Yuuri’s room. Yuuri silently followed behind her, closing her door behind them. Yuuri unlocked their hotel room door, and Khoudia lunged at Yuuri’s suitcase. She tore through their formal clothes and looked at them. “You’re getting a new tie,” she said as she set the tie aside. She looked at their socks. She got up and held them in front of them. “Yuuri, I know you like Studio Ghibli, but you can't wear these. If you hitch your pants up on a chair, you're going to look goofy. Goofy is not what my Birthday Baby is going for." She set those with the tie. "Now that I think about it, your entire suit is ugly, and you need to shop, too." Khoudia put Yuuri’s clothes away and closed their suitcase. “Birthday shopping trip.”

“Khoudia, this isn’t necessary.”

“No, no, it’s necessary,” Khoudia said. “Didn’t Phichit pick out your clothes?” She asked. Yuuri nodded. “I’m going to need to talk to them about this. He did you dirty, too.”

“I don’t _need_ a new suit, Khoudia.”

“Yes, you do,” she said. She put the suit, shirt, tie, and socks back in the suitcase. “Get your coat on and bring your wallet. We’re going shopping.” Yuuri went over to their coat and put it on. Then they got their wallet out of their carry on bag. They put it and their phone in their pocket. Khoudia walked back to her hotel room to get her coat. She came out with her coat on, and they walked to the elevator. "Do you have your headphones?" Yuuri gave Khoudia their headphones. “Thank you, baby.”

“No problem.”

Khoudia unlocked her phone and went to call Phichit. He picked up immediately. “Yeah?” Khoudia quickly shoved the left earbud in Yuuri’s ear.

“Ma foi,” Khoudia said.

“Wait, is Yuuri there?”

“They are,” Khoudia told them.

“Are they listening?”

“I’m right here,” Yuuri said.

“Happy birthday, mon lapinou!” Phichit yelled. Yuuri winced when the sound hit their ear. Yuuri thanked Phichit and smiled.

“Now, Phichit, we need to talk,” Khoudia said. They reached the elevator, and Yuuri pushed the down button. “I was looking at Yuuri’s suit and noticed that it was trash.”

“Look, Yuuri only owns two suits, and they refuse to buy another one. I worked with what I have.” Khoudia looked up at Yuuri with pursed lips. She was giving them a look.

"It's not your fault, love," she said. The elevator came, and they got on. "Yuuri and I are going clothes shopping. They’re coming back with a new suit and maybe more clothes.”

“Please!” Phichit exclaimed. “They need more clothes besides floral harem pants, sweats, and hoodies.”

“You two know that I’m here – actively listening – right?” Yuuri asked.

"We know," Phichit said. "Get nice clothes, so I have more to work with next time you need me to pick things. Khoudia, I'm putting my faith in you." Yuuri rolled their eyes as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. No one got on. “I’m going to go make some breakfast now. I’ll text you a list of things that Yuuri isn’t allowed to get.” Khoudia nodded. “Love you two!”

“We love you, too,” Khoudia said. The call ended. The elevator shot down to the first floor, and they got off.

“So, where are we going first?” Yuuri asked.

There was a beat. “Shit.” She bit her lip. “Do you want to get your shopping out of the way first? Because there should be a suit shop somewhere nearby.”

“You didn’t think this through, did you?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia groaned. Her phone buzzed; that must be Phichit.

“In my fury, I made hasty decisions. Decisions that we’re going to see through because I am not going to look dumb after all of my screaming.” She searched for something. “Let’s start with you. What’s the place you call where you buy suits?”

“A suit store?” Yuuri said with a shrug. “I don’t know. Just search for ‘suit store’ and see what happens.” Khoudia did just that. She found something. “Ready?”

“We need to take an Uber there, though,” she said. She went to Uber and requested one. “It’s in some posh cultural district here. We should go sightseeing too! We haven’t even gone sightseeing yet! Phichit would love that!” Khoudia draped her arm over Yuuri’s shoulder. Her lower arm dangled at a weird angle over Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Do we even have the time to sightsee?” Yuuri asked. “The banquet starts at nine.”

“We have time,” Khoudia said. “The Uber is a minute away.” Yuuri knit their brow. They wondered how it got to them so fast. “Let’s go!” She grabbed their wrist and pulled them outside of the hotel. The Uber pulled up across the street. Our friends crossed the road to get to their cab, and they got in. For a street with a medium-sized hotel in a major district, it was a quiet, non-active street.

“Kh…Khuu…” The driver stammered out.

“Me,” Khoudia said, noticing that the driver was having trouble with her name. Yuuri closed the door behind them and took out their phone.

“Privyet,” the driver said. Khoudia nodded and smiled at the driver. He drove off, heading straight. Khoudia was taking in the sights while Yuuri was checking their phone. They had a bunch of text messages. They decided to start with Mari.

> Mari: Mom, Dad, and I wish you a happy birthday, little brother!

Yuuri smiled. They thanked their sister and quickly went to Adé’s messages.

> Adé: Bòn Fèt, Papa!!
> 
> : Thank you, my son.

Yuuri went to Masabeeh’s texts.

> Masabeeh: Tal’at and I wish you a happy birthday.
> 
> Masabeeh: She said to call you “daddy-o” to make it sweeter, but I’m not going to do that.
> 
> Masabeeh: Pretend this was more original or something idk
> 
> : I take this and cherish it. Thank you, you two ((heart emoji))

She sent back a star. Then they went to Guang Hong’s messages. They hadn’t texted them before today. 

Guang Hong: Phichit told us that it was your birthday today, so, from my baby and me, we wish you a lovely birthday and a prosperous life!!

Then they went to Olivia’s messages. They saved “the best” for last.

> Olivia: Happy birthday, Yuuri.
> 
> Olivia: Khoudia did great today.
> 
> Olivia: Tell her that I am so much in love with her, and I need her to call me.
> 
> Olivia: Wyd?

Yuuri showed the texts to Khoudia, and she snickered. She passed Yuuri their phone back.

> : We’re going shopping. Khoudia and I are having a fashion emergency.
> 
> Olivia: You? Having a fashion emergency? What happened?
> 
> : Khoudia decided that my suit was ugly and that I need a new one, so we're going last-minute suit shopping.
> 
> Olivia: She thought it was that bad? Rude.

Yuuri went to Victor’s messages, looking at the last thing they sent. Yuuri sighed. They want to talk to Victor, but they’re also anxious about talking to Victor. Yuuri took a deep breath. They’ll have to bite the bullet eventually and now was as good a time as ever. So they decided on a simple “hey” to start. Then they went into total fuckboy territory when they said: “I miss you.” Yuuri exited Messages and locked their phone. They’re simultaneously anticipating and dreading Victor’s response. They hope that Victor misses them, too. Khoudia reached over and touched their hand.

"Tonight is going to be great," she said. "We're going to go to the banquet, and we're going to look great, and we're going to be great." Yuuri nodded. Khoudia squeezed their hand, trying to assure themselves that tonight was going to be great.

They reached the suit store, and they bid their driver a farewell. They stood outside of the place, hand-in-hand. "Let's do that sightseeing first," Khoudia said. They leaned on the gate outside of the suit store. "Pick a place."

“Me?”

“Of course,” Khoudia said. She gave Yuuri her phone. They looked at the map of the area. They picked a deserted atoll at the bottom of where they were. According to Google Maps, there was a statue of Peter the Great there. Yuuri didn’t know who Peter the Great was or what they did, but they figured that there would be enough time for that as they walked. Yuuri gave Khoudia her phone back, and she looked at the map. "Alright, let's go to the monument!" Khoudia grabbed Yuuri's hand, and they walked to Peter the Great's Monument. They were able to walk there in under fifteen minutes _and_ figure out who Peter the Great was. The statue was 98 meters tall, and it was on a small islet in the Moskva River. They stood beside a fence, looking over the water that separated them from the base of the statue. Khoudia was gazing at the water. "The water looks so calm," she mused aloud. 

“It is.”

“We should get closer to the statue,” Khoudia suggested. She walked along the length of the fence and found the gate. “We go in here!” Khoudia opened the gate and beckoned Yuuri over to her. Yuuri gamboled over to her and followed her down the path.

“Do you think we’re allowed to do this?” Yuuri asked as they reached the stone path that led to the monument. “I feel like we’re not allowed to do this.”

“We probably aren’t,” Khoudia said. Yuuri sputtered like they were a broken down hooptie. “What?” She looked back at them.

“We could go to jail! We don’t know Russian!”

“I know,” Khoudia said. “We should do it anyway. So let’s go!” She yelled as she grabbed Yuuri’s hand to pull them along.

"There is no one else here but us," Yuuri complained. “This cannot be a good sign.”

“You’re right,” she said. “It’s a _great_ sign. We don't have to worry about being in anyone's way. Birthday Baby gets Peter the Great's Monument all to themselves.” Yuuri let out a loud sob, but there was no one around to hear. “Wait!” She stopped walking.

“What? Change of heart?” Yuuri asked.

“No, better. We should take a selfie here!” Khoudia pulled out her phone and opened the camera app. She snapped two flicks of them. “Now, let’s keep walking!” Khoudia skipped merrily, holding Yuuri by the wrist. Soon they reached the base of the monument. They snapped their flicks and sat on the bench at the base; Yuuri couldn’t take their eyes off of the memorial. 

"I can't believe that we did this," Yuuri murmured.

“I know, right? We should trespass more often.” Yuuri let out another loud sob with laughter following after it. "Let's get going. We have more things to see." Khoudia opened Google Maps and gave her phone to Yuuri. “Pick another place.” Yuuri selected a large square. “There?” Yuuri nodded. "Let's go!" They walked back on the stone path and back on the dirt path. They closed the gate behind them, and they continued walking. 

Next, Yuuri and Khoudia went to the Repin Monument at Bolotnaya Square. This was a statue dedicated to and in the likeness of Ilya Repin, a realist artist. When Yuuri learned that, they were all over the statue and made sure to take a picture of the name plaque and get a good shot of the figure. Yuuri and Khoudia took a break to walk around the park. Yuuri was in love with the park, the statue, and Ilya Repin’s paintings. Yuuri and Khoudia laid in the cold grass. Their bodies would hate them later on, but they were floating. Khoudia snuggled up to Yuuri as they looked at the self-portrait with Natalia Nordman. 

“Why do you love art so much?” Khoudia asked. She moved closer to them, sizing them up to devour them later.

“It makes me happy.”

“Well, obviously,” Khoudia said with an eye roll. “But why? What made you love it so much?”

"My sister did. It provided me a way to connect to her." Khoudia nodded. "She tried to connect to me by using dance and skating, but Mari was kind of bad at ballet, and she was averse to the idea of being on the ice. I don't know how she got the idea to introduce me to art, but it worked." Khoudia nodded again.

“Is that when you started drawing? Like, seriously started drawing?”

“Yes.”

There was silence. Yuuri put their phone on their chest and looked up at the sky. It was a lovely sky blue. “What does art do for you?” Khoudia asked, effectively breaking the silence. She was filled with a lot of questions today.

“It gives me life,” Yuuri murmured.

“Does Victor give you life?” She asked. Yuuri nodded. "Have you told him that? Like, verbally told him that?" Yuuri shook their head. Khoudia sat up and looked Yuuri in their eye. They squirmed. “When you get home, you arrange a date and tell him that.” She grabbed their face. “Do you understand me?” Yuuri nodded. She got up and stretched; her bones popped. “We should go get your suit. We can continue sightseeing after.” Khoudia held out her hand for Yuuri to help them up; they took it gladly. They walked out of the park, hand in hand.

After roughly fifteen minutes, they reached the suit store. They were back where their sightseeing adventure began. Khoudia dragged Yuuri inside of the suit store and started poking around. She seemed to know what she was doing. A woman approached Khoudia and spoke to her in Russian. Khoudia looked lost and kept saying "what?" in English. Yuuri tried to intervene and help the situation, but they got nowhere. The woman held out her hands and walked away. Yuuri and Khoudia looked at each other in confusion.

Then it all made sense when the woman came back with someone else who greeted them in English.

“How may I help?” The other woman asked. Unlike her coworker, she was short, brunette, and had green eyes.

"This baby is looking for a suit," Khoudia told her. "Do you have something for tall people?" Khoudia touched Yuuri’s shoulder and made a gesture, denoting them.

"What's his inseam length?" She asked. She looked at Khoudia, and Khoudia looked at Yuuri. They shrugged. “Does he know?”

“No,” Khoudia said.

“We can measure him,” she said. “What color suit do you have in mind?”

“Platinum gray.” The woman walked over to a suit at the end of a rack. She picked it up and held it to Yuuri’s chest. She seemed to be checking for something. She put the suit back on the stand and grabbed a different one not too far from the first. She held that one to Yuuri’s chest, too. Khoudia stroked her chin, looking for something, too.

“Try this on in there, please,” the woman said. She gently guided Yuuri to the changing room, and Yuuri went in. Khoudia followed them and stood outside of their dressing curtain. Yuuri took off their shoes and winced at the coldness of the floor. Then they took off their coat and passed it to Khoudia. Then they slowly pulled off their pants and gave those to Khoudia, too. She folded them as she patiently waited for Yuuri to get the suit pants on and step out. After two minutes, Yuuri stepped out with the pants on. They were slightly longer in the legs, but that could be fixed. If Yuuri had the materials, they would fix them themselves. The short woman came to them with a measuring tape and measured their inseam. She pinned the bottom of the legs. “You can take them off now,” the woman said. “Do you need a shirt, too?”

“Yes, please,” Khoudia said. Yuuri started running their hands up and down the pants, taking in the texture of the pants. They like the pants. If the jacket was cut from the same fabric, they were sure that they would want that, too. 

“What color?” The woman asked.

“Um,” Khoudia’s voice trailed off. “I’m thinking of a shade of blue. Maybe royal blue?” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “What do you think, Yuuri?”

“Yes, Yuri,” the woman said with a smile. “What do you think?” She draped the measuring tape around her neck and clasped her hands together. “Do you like the suit?” They nodded. “What color do you want the shirt to be?” Out of the corner of Yuuri’s eye, they caught something that sparkled. They walked over to it; it was a shirt. They looked at the shirt and held it, touching the seams and taking in the details. The shirt looked like their favorite album cover but with a different color scheme. They clutched it to their chest; they were going to get that shirt even if it killed them.

“Yuuri, I’m not letting you wear that with those pants.”

“I know,” Yuuri said. “But I want to buy this shirt.” They gave it to Khoudia to hold. “Hold that for me.” She shrugged and held it alongside their pants.

"Are you going to wear that with those pants?" The woman asked. Yuuri shook their head. “We should look at some dress shirts. Come,” she said. “You can put your pants back on.” Yuuri went back to the dressing room. Khoudia gave Yuuri their pants, and they put them on. Then they put on their shoes and gave the suit pants back to the shop attendant. She gave them to her coworker after they had a short conversation in Russian. After their discussion, the woman came back, and she directed Yuuri and Khoudia to a rack of shirts. Yuuri saw a striped blue shirt that they thought would look nice with their suit, but Khoudia and the shop attendant rallied against it. They felt that the stripes were too thick; they agreed that, if Yuuri wanted to go with stripes, the lines should be more delicate – an accent, if you will. 

“What’s your name?” Yuuri asked as the woman looked for a shirt similar to the one Yuuri had.

“I am Natalia Antoneva,” she said as she pulled out a shirt. Natalia held the shirt to Yuuri’s chest. “It’s very nice to meet you, Yuri.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Natalia Antoneva.” Yuuri looked at another shirt. This one was a solid peach color; they held it to their chest.

“That looks nice,” Khoudia said.

“What color would the tie be?” Yuuri asked.

“Either slate gray or platinum gray,” Khoudia said. “You have to keep with the color scheme.”

“Except that you _don’t_ ,” Yuuri said. “Sometimes there’s room for color variations that go surprisingly well. But I think we should find a peach color tie. A darker-peach colored tie.” Natalia looked at the peach shirt Yuuri was holding; she agreed that it went well with their suit.

“Now, we’re looking for a tie, right?” Natalia asked. She walked over to a stand and seemed to pick one arbitrarily. She brought it back to Yuuri and Khoudia. Yuuri was unsure of it until they touched it; then, they decided that they were in love. The tie was a peach-orange color with black and silver accents, and it was tactilely pleasing to Yuuri. They held the tie next to the shirt. “Yes,” they thought, “this goes well.” “Do you like that tie?” Natalia asked.

“I do,” Yuuri said.

“It goes nicely with your shirt,” Khoudia said. “So is it that you know what you’re doing, but you don’t want to do it?” She was referring to why Yuuri hasn’t bought a new suit sooner.

“Exactly that,” Yuuri said. “I chose _not_ to buy a new suit. It’s a waste of time.”

“I’ll take those off of your hands,” Natalia said. She took the shirt and tie from Yuuri and gave it to her coworker. They had another short conversation. Natalia came back with a smile on her face. Khoudia was looking at Yuuri’s new favorite shirt, trying to understand what they saw in it.

“This shirt is kind of ugly,” Khoudia mused aloud. “I can’t picture you in this at all.”

“It’s a nice shirt.” Yuuri shifted. “I like the transitions on it.” Khoudia looked closer at it, trying to understand what Yuuri was talking about. They got their phone out of their coat pocket. Olivia had texted.

> Olivia: So Khoudia’s making you get a new suit.
> 
> Olivia: How’s that going for you?
> 
> : Surprisingly well.
> 
> : She hates this shirt I picked out, thou.

“I hate to interrupt you, but your suit pants will be ready by 18:30,” Natalia told Yuuri. “Perhaps you and your partner would like to go out and look around until then.” Khoudia stopped looking at Yuuri’s shirt and walked over to them.

“Sure,” Yuuri said and started to put their coat back on.

“What’d I miss?” Khoudia asked.

“I was just telling your partner that their suit won’t be ready until 18:30, so you are free to walk around the city until then.” Khoudia nodded. “Do you want to pay for the suit now or later?”

“Now would be fine,” Yuuri said. Natalia took them to the register, and Yuuri paid for their suit. Natalia wrote out a ticket for Yuuri so they can get their suit out.

Yuuri and Khoudia walked out of the store and leaned on the gate. “So, what do you want to do until 6:30? It’s 4:18 right now.”

“Let’s find what you’re going to wear,” Yuuri suggested.

"But I don't know which way to go." Khoudia took out her phone and grimaced. "I know what I want, but I don't know where to go to get it." Khoudia held out her hand for Yuuri. "Let's start walking. We'll find what I'm looking for eventually."

Yuuri and Khoudia continued to sightsee while keeping their eyes out for what Khoudia was looking for. Yuuri had no idea what she had in mind, so they just had to trust her.

#

**(Sunday, 29 November 2015 –** **8:30pm, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Khoudia found what she was looking for. They were by the Cathedral of Christ the Savior when she found it. Yuuri was in disbelief when they saw it. It was short, and it shined whenever the light hit it. It was extravagant and somehow fitting for Khoudia. They wondered how she was going to stay warm because the dress was so short, but, as Khoudia says, "a hoe never gets cold." 

Yuuri was in Khoudia’s bathroom, tying their tie. Khoudia and Yuuri decided to get ready together after they took their showers. Khoudia chose to get ready in her room, and Yuuri let her have her space. Yuuri knocked on the door to get her attention. “Do you have your dress on yet?” They asked.

“Not yet!” She responded. “I’m greasing up right now. Just wait a bit longer.” Yuuri nodded and put down the toilet seat. They sat on it and unlocked their phone. Phichit was asking Yuuri to take lots of pictures tonight. Yuuri agreed and went to Victor’s texts; they hadn’t had the chance to respond to him all day.

> Victor: I miss you too
> 
> Victor: Wyd?
> 
> : Khoudia and I went shopping and sightseeing today.
> 
> Victor: How was it?

“Alright, you can come out now!” Khoudia bellowed. Yuuri got up from their seat and left the bathroom. Khoudia went to the closet to get her coat. Yuuri went to the door and grabbed their shoes. They sat on the bed and started to put them on. “Okay, ma raison, how do I look?” Khoudia stepped out of the closet and posed. Yuuri looked at her in silence. “Well?” She spun slowly. “Come on, give me some input.”

“Would it matter if I gave input? You’re going to wear it anyway.” Yuuri put their right foot in their shoe.

“Yes! Now tell me, how do I look?”

“You look stunning,” Yuuri finally said. The dress came mid-thigh in the front and a little bit lower in the back. It sparkled even when Khoudia didn’t move. “You know Ciao Ciao is going to break your legs when he sees you.” Khoudia laughed. “He’s going to come out of the corner and drop kick you into hell.” Khoudia smiled and shrugged.

"He can break my legs all he wants; I look cute, and everyone's going to see it tonight."

“What are you going to do when he sees you and starts yelling?” Yuuri asked. They put on their left shoe.

“Dab on him,” Khoudia said. She went over to her bag and put on her heels. Yuuri started shaking and laughing. "And, before you ask, I'm serious. I will dab the moment Ciao Ciao starts yelling at me." Khoudia started striking more poses. "Now, help me fix my hair. I want it in a bun." Yuuri put their phone down on Khoudia’s bed and stood behind Khoudia. They gathered up Khoudia’s braids and held them up. “Now, do what I do.” Khoudia went to her suitcase and got a scarf to tie her braids with. “Let go of my hair.” Yuuri let Khoudia's braids fall, and she went to lay on her bed, her head dangling off of the edge. Yuuri helped her gather her braids together so Khoudia could tie them. She tied them with her scarf and sat up. Then Yuuri assisted Khoudia in wrapping and rolling her hair into a bun. Khoudia went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She made a joyful sound and stepped out with a renewed sense of vigor. She was going to fuck it up tonight. 

“You look very nice,” Yuuri said. “The bun was a good idea.” Khoudia gave her phone to Yuuri. It’s time to take pictures. Yuuri snapped several flicks of Khoudia in different poses and with different expressions. “Are these going on Instagram?”

“Not yet,” Khoudia said. “I want this to be a surprise to everyone.”

“Are you going to cover your legs?” Yuuri asked.

"Nope. Hoes don't get cold," she said with a wink. She put her portable charger in her bag. Then she put her charger, comb, and edge control in her purse.

“Do you _need_ to bring a comb and edge control?”

“You never know when your edges are going to become out of control. I have to be prepared.”

"Pale faces don't know what edges are. You'll be fine," Yuuri assured her. Khoudia rolled her eyes and didn’t move to take the comb and edge control out of her purse. “I tried.” Yuuri shrugged and went back to their messages.

> : It was a lot of fun. After we shopped, we went to the Pushkin Museum and got some pizza.
> 
> Victor: Was it the Fine Arts Museum, or was it the State Museum?
> 
> : There’s a difference?
> 
> Victor: There’s a huge difference. One has art. The other one is a Pushkin museum with concert halls.

Khoudia bent down to tie Yuuri’s shoes. “Khoudia, did we go to an art museum today?” They asked. Khoudia nodded.

> : Khoudia said that it was the art museum.
> 
> Victor: Then we should go to the State Museum. There's a Bely exhibit, and we can go to the Pushkin memorial apartment.
> 
> Victor: What else did you see?
> 
> : We saw the Bolshoi Theatre, the Peter the Great Monument, the Repin Monument, the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, the Kremlin, Saint Basil’s Cathedral, the Bell Tower, the State Historical Museum, the Oriental Art Museum, and Red Square.
> 
> : We saw Lenin’s body!! His actual body!!
> 
> : And Khoudia took me to a bakery and got me a cupcake.
> 
> : Also, we bought stuff.
> 
> Victor: You did a lot today, and that's amazing.
> 
> Victor: Before you leave, you need to see the Gogol Museum.

Khoudia looked over Yuuri’s shoulder and smiled. “Victor texted back, I see.” Yuuri nodded. “Remember to arrange a date with him,” she said.

“I will.”

> : I’ll be sure to do that with Khoudia tomorrow.
> 
> : We should go on a date when I come back maybe.
> 
> Victor: Maybe?

“Yuuri, don’t say ‘maybe.’ You can’t be apathetic about this.” She sat next to them and continued to observe.

> : I mean, if you want to go on a date with me that is.
> 
> : No pressure tho.
> 
> Victor: Well, I want to go on a date with you.
> 
> Victor: Do you want to go on one with me?
> 
> : I'd love that.

Khoudia’s phone rang. It was Celestino; she put him on speaker.

“Where are you?” He asked.

"I'm getting ready right now. Do you want to meet us in the hall?" Khoudia asked. She balanced the phone on Yuuri’s lap and reached for her raw shea butter. She took the top off and started to scrape at it.

"Meet me in the lobby. We can go together," Coach Cialdini said.

“Are you ready now?” Yuuri asked him.

“Khoudia! Why is Yuuri getting ready with you?!” Coach Cialdini asked.

“It’s a long story,” Yuuri said. It was a painfully complicated story, and it was best if Khoudia told it. If Yuuri told it, it would leave a lot of unanswered questions. Khoudia rubbed her hands together and started to rub the shea butter on her arms, focusing specifically on her elbows.

“Just come down to the lobby when you’re ready,” he said and hung up. Yuuri put Khoudia’s phone on the bed next to their and Khoudia passed Yuuri the shea butter. “You know I can’t use this.”

“I need you to grease my back and neck,” Khoudia said. She turned her back on Yuuri. Yuuri scraped the shea butter out and rubbed their hands together to apply the butter to her freckled back.

“You’re going to be shining all night tonight,” Yuuri said. “If it’s not your Egyptian crystal dress – which is opulent as fuck, I might add – it’s the light hitting your back and the butter reflecting it.” Khoudia laughed and shrugged playfully. “You and your opulent hoe dress.”

“Don’t forget to do my shoulders,” Khoudia reminded them. Yuuri scraped more shea butter out of the container and greased Khoudia’s neck and shoulders. Khoudia handed Yuuri a towel; Yuuri wiped their hands on the towel and passed it back to Khoudia. Yuuri got up and started stimming to make themselves comfortable in their new suit. Khoudia gave them their suit jacket, and they put it on as they stimmed. “So doing that makes wearing clothes more comfortable?” Khoudia asked.

“Yes,” Yuuri said as they twisted and flung their arm into the air. Khoudia stepped back. "Yeah, you should stay away until I'm done."

“And when are you done?” She asked.

“When I stop.” Khoudia sucked her teeth. Yuuri picked their leg up and made a grand gesture. "You might want to sit down. This can get elaborate," they said. Yuuri started doing tendus, first, second, and fifth pliés, and first arabesques. Khoudia watched Yuuri do those and stim in between them. She was amazed.

“And you do this… all the time?” She asked.

“Yes,” Yuuri said. They moved into a passé and spun. Then they finished with a grande battement and another passé. “I’m done now. Let’s go downstairs.” Yuuri tossed Khoudia her coat and opened her door to get theirs. Yuuri got their coat off of their bed and put it on. They went back to Khoudia’s room. She had her coat and purse. She handed Yuuri their phone, and they walked to the elevator. 

> : Khoudia and I are going to the banquet.
> 
> Victor: Please do try to have fun tonight.
> 
> : I’ll try.

The elevator came, and they got on. Khoudia zipped up her coat and grinned. "I can't wait to see the look on Ciao Ciao's face when I take off my coat!" She exclaimed.

“I swear, he’s going to break your legs.” She laughed. The elevator stopped on the fifth floor. “This isn’t a joke, Khoudia,” Yuuri admonished.

"Well, it's too late. I'm dressed and on the elevator," Khoudia said. She took out her phone and went on Instagram. "Elizabeth and Michael are already there," she said. "Look." Khoudia showed Yuuri the Instagram photo. They were standing in front of a sign placed by the entrance of the banquet hall. Elizabeth was in a fuchsia-colored trumpet dress, and Michael was in a navy-blue suit. They looked sharp compared to Yuuri and Khoudia. Khoudia was dressed like she was about to hit up the club while Yuuri was dressed like they’re about to hide in the bathroom during their prom.

They reached the lobby, and Khoudia took a seat to wait for Coach Cialdini. Khoudia was teeming with excitement. If everything goes right, she was going to take off her coat when they get inside, and she was going to blind everyone with her dress. Once everyone regained their equilibrium, Coach Cialdini would chastise Khoudia for dressing improperly and chastise Yuuri for allowing Khoudia to dress inappropriately. Then Coach Cialdini would retreat to his bevy of coaches, and they would talk about how their wards are unruly and are always pulling stunts because they're overdramatic show ponies. Yuuri and Khoudia would proceed to be good, reserved skaters despite looking utterly goofy, and they would socialize with everyone. 

But that’s if tonight goes right.

Coach Cialdini and his ducklings endured the ten-minute walk to the banquet hall. It was a brisk walk, and Khoudia complained about her legs being cold the entire time. Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh at her when she complained. They were under the presumption that hoes don’t get cold.

“Yuuri!” Chris said. He walked out of the hall and greeted them with a hug. “I’m glad that you decided to come tonight.” Chris started to help Yuuri out of their coat, but Yuuri stopped them and did it themselves. Khoudia was still wearing hers.

“Khoudia, take your coat off,” Yuuri said. Khoudia smirked and unzipped her coat. Chris looked at her, his mouth ajar. Khoudia smiled and walked over to Yuuri. “Do you want me to put our coats away?”

"I can do that," Khoudia said. She took Yuuri’s coat after getting their phone out of their pocket. She did what must be done and returned to Yuuri and Chris.

“You look very handsome tonight,” Chris said with a wink. Yuuri felt themselves blush. “You’re so cute.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri stammered.

“Khoudia!” Coach Cialdini yelled. Yuuri and Khoudia looked behind themselves. Khoudia stood between Yuuri and Chris, hoping that their height will mask her. “Khoudia Bâ Sène!” Coach Cialdini yelled. He approached Yuuri, Chris, and Khoudia and stood in front of her. Yuuri looked away and tried to mask their laughter. “Why did you leave the hotel wearing that?!”

“I had to wear _something_ to the banquet,” she said. “Also, I look good in this dress!” Khoudia straightened herself up and struck a pose… and then she dabbed. Jesus Christ.

“You’re not supposed to wear things like _that_ to a formal event!”

“Okay, but I look good!” She touched Yuuri’s back. “And my sisters picked out a terrible dress, and I wasn’t going to wear it in public.”

“So you went shopping for this gaudy monstrosity,” Coach Cialdini said.

“Is it really that gaudy?” She asked, feigning shock. “Plus, Yuuri liked it when I picked it out.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia in shock. “In fact, Yuuri _supported_ me wearing this tonight.” Yuuri deadpanned.

“Yuuri, why did you encourage this?” Coach Cialdini yelled.

“I–I just–” Yuuri stopped talking and threw up their hands in concession. They had no clue what to say, and they didn’t even understand how they got dragged into this.

"Well, I can't go back and change, and I refuse to put on the dress my sisters picked out." Khoudia grabbed on to Yuuri’s arm. “So, I guess I’m just going to have to wear it.” She smiled sweetly and held Yuuri’s hand. Chris started laughing; Khoudia didn’t pay him any mind. “Yuuri, I’m going to go lay my edges. You stay put. We can take pictures when I come out.”

“Of course,” Yuuri said. Chris and Yuuri walked Khoudia walk off to find the bathroom. They waited until she was gone before they started to talk.

“So is Khoudia usually like this?” Yuuri nodded. “I think that – once she gets accustomed to me – we’ll be great friends.”

“I would like that,” Yuuri said.

"We should take a selfie!" Chris beamed. "For our Vitya and Instagram, of course." Chris took out his phone and snapped some flicks. He assured Yuuri that he would send them all the pictures he takes tonight… After he sends them to Victor, that is. Speaking of Victor, Yuuri got their phone out of their pocket – Khoudia had put it in there when she was trying to hide from Coach Cialdini – and checked their messages. Chris was texting Victor as Yuuri scrolled through their message list.

> : I’m here.
> 
> Victor: I know. Chris told me.
> 
> : What else did he tell you?
> 
> Victor: That you’re really hot and that he might steal you away from me

Yuuri sharply exhaled and said, “You can’t steal me away, Chris.” Chris snickered. “I’m being serious.”

“I know you are, but I’d be a liar if I said that I didn’t think about it.” Chris draped his arm over Yuuri’s shoulder and stroked his cheek with his other hand. “Victor’s lucky he got to you before I had the chance to.” Chris moved his face closer to Yuuri’s; Yuuri felt their face get hot.

“Christophe!” Someone said. Chris pulled away from Yuuri and looked at the entrance. There was a short, bald man with red-rimmed glasses standing there. “Stop flirting with the new skater,” he said. Chris laughed. The man walked over to Chris and Yuuri. “Hello,” the man said to Yuuri as he held out his hand. “I’m Christophe’s coach.” Yuuri tentatively took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Yuuri murmured.

“Who’s your coach?” He asked.

“Celestino Cialdini.” Yuuri smiled. Christophe’s coach nodded. Khoudia came out and stood next to Yuuri. They looked at her head; her edges looked positively laid. “And this is Khoudia Bâ Sène.”

"Ah, the African girl with the beautiful skin," Christophe's coach said as he looked her up and down. "It's lovely to meet you finally." He kissed Khoudia's knuckles; she made a face of embarrassment.

“It’s… nice to meet you too. I think.” Christophe’s coach nodded.

“I think I’ll go find Celestino now. Now, Christophe, don’t flirt with the skaters.” Chris nodded. His coach walked off to find Coach Cialdini. Chris was smiling.

“That’s my coach, everybody!” He said. He grabbed Yuuri’s hand. “Let’s go inside. You can sit with me!” Chris pulled Yuuri inside, and Khoudia followed them. She looked around, scanning the room. 

> : What are you looking for?
> 
> Khoudia: I’m trying to see if Michael and them are here.
> 
> Khoudia: I don’t see them.

Chris found the table he was sharing with his coach, and they sat. "I'm so glad that you were here at this event," Chris said. "It would've been boring without you two."

“You don’t know us very well,” Khoudia pointed out. “Surely you wouldn’t have missed our presence too much.”

"No, I still would have," Chris said. "Plus, I don't need to know you very well to like you." Khoudia took out her phone. "If I like you, I like you. It's simple." Chris had a contemplative look in his eyes. Then he rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, my eyes are getting dry right now. Excuse me." Chris reached into his pocket and felt around for something. Once Chris seemed like he found what he was feeling for, he got up and left the room. Khoudia looked at the doorway.

"I can't believe that he likes us," Khoudia said. "Him liking you I can understand – y'all have talked – but liking me too?" She shook her head. "Hard to believe. I refuse to believe."

“Khoudia, he thinks you’re cool.” She rolled her eyes and kept looking at the entrance. “He sees it even without having multiple conversations with you.” She scoffed. “What will it take for you to realize this?” She shrugged and kept her eye on the entrance.

“We’re going to dance tonight,” she said.

“No debating it?”

“No debating it,” she said. “We’re dancing.”

“What if we start making people feel bad?” Yuuri asked.

“We already claimed gold and silver,” she said. “We might as well make them feel bad some more. They can handle it. How this ass taste?” 

"Khoudia, you're funny," Chris said. He walked behind her chair and Yuuri's to get back to his seat. "‘How this ass taste?' That's great." Chris smiled. "Do you want to get something to eat? You know, something that isn't an ass?" Khoudia giggled. "There's a laugh. We should go! I heard that they went to a local caterer for tonight's food."

“Did you see your coach?” Yuuri asked.

“No, I think he’s still looking for your coach. I wonder what Josef could want with him.” Chris took out his phone. “Oh, Yuuri, Vitya just sent me a bunch of heart-eye emojis. He's feeling you.” Chris went to his photos and selected bunches of them. “I’m going to send you the selfies now.”

“Shit! That’s what I forgot!” Khoudia said. “Yuuri, we have to take those photos right now.” She got up and tried to pull out Yuuri’s chair.

“I can take the photos for you,” Chris offered. “Let’s do that and then get food.” Chris got up and pulled out Yuuri’s chair. Yuuri got up, and they walked towards the standing banner. Yuuri wrapped their arm around Khoudia’s waist and pulled her close. Chris took a flick. Then Yuuri and Khoudia wrapped their arms around each other; Chris took another flick. They took a couple more flicks, and they crowded around Chris to look at them. Khoudia looked perfect; her skin and the gems on her dress gleamed in every photo. Yuuri looked like they had no clue what to do with their body. As usual. Yuuri took out their phone and took pictures of Khoudia.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be in these, too!” She yelled. Yuuri laughed, and Khoudia took command of their phone. She snapped flicks of the two of them together, and Yuuri was looking over at something. “Okay, _now_ we can go eat.” She grabbed Yuuri’s hand and tried to pull them to the entrance of the hall. Chris was happily observing them. He had a lot to tell Victor about tonight.

Once they were done with the flicks and Snapchat posts, they went back into the hall. They went to the tables for food. Yuuri and Khoudia were apprehensive about this for different reasons. Khoudia's apprehensiveness was based around what was clean for her to eat and the fact that she doesn't go around, eating everyone's cooking; Yuuri’s apprehensiveness was because they knew nothing about what was served. They decided to get the mozzarella bruschetta, a salad, and the apricot sharbat because it is literally impossible to fuck up a salad, and sharbat is pretty good. Chris was the more adventurous of the three of them; he decided to get lamb. 

Coach Cialdini and Coach Karpisek came back and found their ducks. Khoudia looked back at the door one last time to see if Michael and them were here. She still didn’t see them. Coach Cialdini was still simmering from his earlier interaction with Khoudia. He hated how his charge was so hard-headed and how he couldn’t do anything about it. Nothing he did or threatened to do seemed to faze Khoudia. He was glad that Yuuri was more pliant. He was also occasionally more capable of reasoning with Khoudia. Coach Cialdini and Coach Karpisek talked about coach things.

After they ate, it was time for awkward formal dancing. Coach Harcourt and his skaters were here, finally. Khoudia politely excused herself from the table and went over to them. Yuuri couldn’t tell anything that was going on, but they could tell that Khoudia was talking.

> : So?

Khoudia looked back at Yuuri. She gestured for them to come over. Yuuri looked at her and shrugged. She started to beckon them more feverishly.

> : What’s going on?
> 
> Khoudia: Just come here.

“Excuse me,” Yuuri said and got up. They went over to where Khoudia was. Yuuri stood by Khoudia’s side, listening to her talk to Elizabeth and Sophia. She excused them and dragged them to the lobby.

“It’s boring as hell in there,” she said. “And they’re boring, too.” She yawned and scrunched her nose.

“Well, what did you expect?” Yuuri asked her. “It’s a formal event. Of course, it’s going to be boring.” Khoudia sucked her teeth and looked at her phone.

“We should tear it the fuck up,” she said. Then she made a face as if she had realized something great. “We _should_ tear it the fuck up!” She grabbed Yuuri by the shoulders. “They need to learn how to turn up!”

“Or we could _not_ show them how to turn up.”

“Come on, Yuuri, don’t be like that,” she whined. “If we don’t do this, we’re going to be bored to death by the end of the night.” She started to shake them. “We need to do this!”

“I think this is a genuinely terrible idea.” Khoudia groaned. “Plus, Chris is in there. I’m kind of not okay with doing anything too outrageous when my boyfriend’s best friend is in there.”

“Come on,” she whined. “Don’t be like that. We need to party. It’s your birthday,” she slurred. Yuuri sighed. They couldn’t believe that they were actually considering tearing the hall the fuck up. “They’re all dry as fuck. We deserve better than this.”

“Fine,” Yuuri said, “I’ll do this, but _only_ after I have four glasses of champagne.” Khoudia jumped and cheered. She held her chest.

“This is going to be great!” She said. They walked back into the hall and took their original seats. Chris was smiling. Yuuri went over to a table and grabbed a glass of champagne. Khoudia smiled longingly at Yuuri. Yuuri sipped slowly at their champagne, and Khoudia batted her lashes. Chris took out his phone and quickly sent a text to Victor, making him aware of this observation.

Khoudia: Now that I think about it, I should probably try and get rid of Ciao Ciao.

“Khoudia, do not,” Yuuri said in between sips.

> Khoudia: What?? He’s going to cramp our style. Our style does not need to be cramped.
> 
> Khoudia: Plus, if he stays here, he’s just going to yell at us.

“I mean, _yeah_ , of course he is,” Yuuri said. “It’s him.”

> Khoudia: So far, I have two ideas.
> 
> Khoudia: Idea #1: I try to smooth talk him into going back to the hotel, using him talking to his daughter as an excuse.
> 
> : Okay.

Yuuri took a small sip of champagne and waited for Khoudia to send her second idea.

> Khoudia: Idea #2: We get him drunk.
> 
> : Oh my god.

Yuuri damn near dropped their champagne when they read that. They sharply inhaled and waited for Khoudia to continue explaining her idea before they would start chastising her.

> Khoudia: We get him drunk, and we have one of the coaches take him back to his hotel room.
> 
> Khoudia: Being free of our Ciao Ciao and a coach who is friendly with him, we get to tear this place the fuck up without his influence.
> 
> Khoudia: This one could totally work. Ciao Ciao is a total lightweight.
> 
> : And what if one of the other coaches tells him about our behavior? Who is Ciao Ciao going to believe more? Us or another coach?
> 
> Khoudia: They can’t prove we did it.
> 
> : Except that they CAN because EVERYONE HAS A CELL PHONE.

Yuuri took a sip of their champagne and looked at Khoudia. They were interested in what Khoudia could say in response to their statement.

> Khoudia: We could also take him out back and put him down like a rabid dog.
> 
> Khoudia: But you don’t want to do that, do you?

Yuuri deadpanned.

> Khoudia: Exactly. So it's either we smooth talk him into leaving, or we get him drunk and have him removed.
> 
> Khoudia: So take your pick.
> 
> : I guess Idea #2. That one is stronger.
> 
> Khoudia: Nice, nice. Let’s do this.

Yuuri and Khoudia nodded at each other. Chris observed the entire thing, confused as to what was happening before his eyes. Khoudia took Yuuri’s champagne flute and finished it for him.

> Khoudia: Now, go get champagne for us, Birthday Baby.

“Ciao Ciao, do you want a glass of champagne?” Yuuri asked. Their voice was hesitant, and they hoped that Coach Cialdini wouldn’t notice it.

“That would be lovely, Yuuri,” he said with a smile. Yuuri smiled back at him and got up. They came back with three champagne flutes: one for them, one for Coach Cialdini, and one for Khoudia.

> : I hope you know that I have several hang-ups about this.
> 
> Khoudia: I know you do. But it’s going to be okay.

Yuuri took a slow sip of their champagne. Their phone buzzed; it was Chris.

> Chris: So, what were you and Khoudia discussing?
> 
> Chris: You ~were~ discussing something, right?
> 
> : We were talking about what we were going to do when we get back to the hotel.

Chris nodded.

> Chris: And what will you two be doing?
> 
> : Watching anime.
> 
> Chris: Can I join?
> 
> : I don’t think there will be enough space.

Chris nodded again. Yuuri felt his hand touch their knee; they took a sip of champagne and took deep breaths. Khoudia looked over at Yuuri and Chris and took a sip of her alcohol. She looked at her nails and sucked her teeth. She thought about changing the shape; they were currently stiletto shaped, but she felt like almond or oval was better. She tapped her index finger against her glass. 

Yuuri was halfway done with their glass when Coach Cialdini finished his. He excused himself from Josef and the table to get another drink. Coach Cialdini was digging his own drunken grave.

> Khoudia: Who should we ask to take Ciao Ciao back to the hotel?
> 
> : Either Coach Harcourt, Coach Miller, or Christophe’s coach.
> 
> : Those are the three that I’ve seen him interact with the most.
> 
> Khoudia: Where is Coach Miller?

Yuuri gestured with their chin in Khoudia’s direction. She was at the table horizontally across from them. Khoudia already knew where Coach Harcourt was; he was with his boring as sin skaters. Khoudia took another sip of her glass. She was itching for things to jump off.

> Khoudia: Hm… Christophe’s coach is the closest to us.
> 
> Khoudia: Plus, I don’t think that Ciao Ciao likes Coach Harcourt like that.
> 
> Khoudia: They just talk, but they don't TALK, you know?
> 
> Khoudia: So I think we should go for Christophe's coach. He's closest, and Ciao Ciao seems to like him.

Yuuri nodded. So they were going to convince Chris’ coach to take their coach back to the hotel. How they were going to accomplish _that_ was unknown, but, if they were lucky, Josef would insist on doing it, and they would feel minimally bad about allowing him to do it when it was more of their responsibility. 

After Yuuri and Coach Cialdini's third glass, Coach Cialdini complained of having to lay down. He was drunk now. It went according to plan: Khoudia asked Christophe's coach if he could take their coach back to the hotel. He was happy to help Yuuri and Khoudia with their coach. He said that he was planning on leaving the banquet early anyway. Yuuri, Khoudia, and Chris saw their coaches off and kept them company until the Uber arrived.

When the Uber pulled off, that's when the real party began. Khoudia allowed Yuuri their last glass of champagne before they would tear the hall up. Khoudia somehow sweet-talked the person who was controlling the music into playing something "different." It all went to hell once Khoudia got control of the music. She started playing an afrobeat x dancehall mix. Everyone on the floor stopped dancing and eventually cleared because they didn't know what to do. Yuuri got on the floor and waited for Khoudia to join them. Khoudia started dancing coupé décalé, and Yuuri tried to keep up with her. They were glad that they had alcohol in their system so that they wouldn’t be too anxious about dancing in public.

Out of the corner of their eye, they saw Christophe get up. Yuuri didn’t know what he was doing, but it made sense when Chris started dancing alongside them. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he was dancing and observing. Chris was doing a lot of watching tonight.

“Dance better!” Khoudia yelled. “I know you can do better!” She stopped her dancing and walked over to the table to get Yuuri glasses of champagne. “Drink.”

“Are you–”

“I said drink.” She took a sip of her glass of champagne. They stood on the floor with the glasses of champagne. Khoudia was two-stepping with her glass; Yuuri was standing there, silently sipping. Chris decided to get a glass of champagne and join them in the sipping. Khoudia decided that she couldn't finish her drink, so she gave it to Yuuri to complete. So Yuuri was nursing two glasses of half-filled champagne, alternating in sips. Khoudia went back to the table and got two more glasses – both of them for Yuuri.

“Khoudia, I don’t know if I’m capable of dancing and drinking.”

“Nonsense, I’ve seen you drink and whine at house parties.” Yuuri sighed and allowed the music to overtake them. Khoudia was right; they’re very capable of drinking and whining. There’s video evidence of it. The only thing stopping them from going all out right now was the fact that they were in a suit and that suits are restrictive.

When the song changed, Khoudia started to azonto. Her arms moved wildly and yet in time to the music. Yuuri was trying to keep up with her, and Khoudia was goading them on. She goaded and goaded, and Yuuri strove to dance their fiercest and best. After seeing that this was something Chris couldn’t hope to compete in – a game he wasn’t going to win – he gave up in trying to participate and decided to document this. He needed his Vitya to see all of this.

All. Of. This.

#

**(Monday, 30 November 2015 –** **12:20am, Moscow, Moscow Oblast, Russia)**

Yuuri and Khoudia managed to get back to the hotel in one piece. They danced until they wanted to drop. If it were possible, they would’ve danced even after they collapsed from exhaustion.

As Yuuri crawled into bed next to Khoudia, they realized something: They have a reputation now. Not only are they one of the few people of color, but they're also going to be branded as the two party animals who make everyone uncomfortable. They felt their stomach churn at the thought. Yuuri looked over at Khoudia, she was already asleep – or so it seemed. Yuuri, despite being physically exhausted, was still wound up.

They couldn’t wait until they crashed from this episode.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ndéwénati - Wolof  
> An do siina kurumba - Soninke  
> Joyeaux anniversaire - French


	45. Suddenly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's back in Detroit.

#

**(Tuesday, 1 December 2015 – 4:12pm** **, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Coach Cialdini, Yuuri, and Khoudia were back from Russia. The banquet was a riot even though Yuuri and Khoudia – and, occasionally, Chris – were the only ones rioting. The exhibition skate went well, too. They even got to see the Gogol House before they stepped on the ice. Yuuri and Khoudia were walking up the stairs to Yuuri’s apartment. Khoudia had dropped her bags off and somehow convinced her parents to let her come over to Yuuri’s home. Yuuri would have to ask Khoudia how she did that, but right now, they were focused on making it to the top of the stairs.

“Dad!” Adé yelled from down the hall. They came from the apartment that was blasting Erykah Badu. “I’ve missed you and Mama!” They ran towards Yuuri and Khoudia as fast as they could, and they jumped. Yuuri immediately dropped all of their bags to catch their son. Adé squeezed their dad and reached out towards Khoudia to bring them into the hug. Instead, Khoudia just kissed Adé’s forehead when Yuuri set them down to pick up their bags. “I’ll help you.”

“Where’s Phichit?” Khoudia asked.

“He’s watching the stove.”

“And Masabeeh and Tal’at?”

“They’re at the dorm catching up on work.” The three of them walked to the apartment. “So it’s just us tonight! You don’t mind, do you?” Adé asked.

“We don’t mind, baby,” Khoudia said. “It’d be nice to have a family dinner.”

“Well, your family isn’t here, so go home,” Yuuri said.

“What do you mean my family isn’t here?” Khoudia asked. “I have my co-parent and my sons here tonight.” Khoudia opened the door for Yuuri and Adé. “So my family is here. So shut up.” Yuuri and Adé stepped through the threshold, and Adé locked it behind them. They set the bags by the door and turned down On & On. Yuuri went into the kitchen; they wanted to see Phichit ASAP.

“Lapinou!” Yuuri yelled when they stood at the mouth of the kitchen entrance. Phichit practically jumped on Yuuri when they turned around. Yuuri kissed Phichit and spun him around. 

“Ma poupée!” Phichit gushed. Yuuri put Phichit down and gave him another kiss. “I’ve missed you so much!” Phichit stroked Yuuri’s face. “Go put your bags away. The food is almost done, I think.” Yuuri nodded and went back into the living room to grab their bags. Khoudia had somehow disappeared between stepping inside and Yuuri going into the kitchen. So did Adé.

So Yuuri lugged their bags to the bedroom they shared and was floored when they saw what had been done. Balloons were floating in the air and gift bags on their bed. Phichit had changed their bedsheets, too. Yuuri tentatively walked over to their bed and tried to absorb what they were seeing.

“Happy birthday!” Adé and Khoudia yelled. Yuuri felt tears come to their eyes. “Are you okay?” Adé asked. They walked over to Yuuri and wrapped their delicate arms around them. “Papa,” they murmured. Yuuri slumped to the floor, keeping their eyes on their bed.

“Happy,” Yuuri said. They smiled and thought back to their childhood. They would say “happy” as a vocal stim because they liked how it made them feel. “Happy.”

“Do you like this?” Khoudia asked as she gathered up the balloons. “Shit, maybe we shouldn’t have gotten the balloons,” Khoudia said to Adé. Adé moved the bags off of the bed. “We wanted to surprise you for your birthday. I _know_ I got you a cupcake, and we went shopping when we were in Moscow, but we thought it would be nice for you to have something at home… So here we are.” Khoudia had all the balloons in her hand. Yuuri sprung up; they took them out of her hands and let them go. “Are you okay with this? We’re sorry we sprung this on you so suddenly.” Yuuri nodded.

“Happy,” they said. Adé stood there like a bump on a log with the bags in their hands. “Happy.”

“Um, Dad, are you okay?” Adé asked. “You’re not using many of your words right now.” Yuuri pulled Adé and Khoudia into a hug. They whispered “happy” and smiled. “I guess they like this, Mama.” Yuuri let go of Khoudia and Adé and ran back into the kitchen. They couldn’t let Phichit slide.

“Did you see your surprise?” Phichit coolly asked; he didn’t take his eyes off of the oven. Yuuri picked Phichit up and spun him. “Do you like it?” He asked. Yuuri kissed Phichit and put him down. "I'm glad you like this. I was worried that you'd have a meltdown or something because of the surprise, and I changed the sheets on your bed." Phichit fanned himself. “Ma poupée, can you open a window? I've been in this hot ass kitchen all day.” Yuuri walked over to one window and cracked it open. “Thank you, lapinou.” Yuuri walked back over to Phichit and stood next to him. “You know, while you were gone, I got the idea that angel hair pasta was too basic, so I had Adé help me brainstorm some stuff to make you.” Phichit cracked the oven to peek inside. “Then we had to factor in Khoudia – we always have to factor in Khoudia – and all the ideas I had _had_ to go out of the window.” Yuuri nodded. "So I hope that you don't mind all of the black Southern cuisine… And the other black Southernisms. Adé insisted that Erykah Badu played as we cooked.”

After minutes of silence, Yuuri spoke up. “I’ve been to cookouts with Yohani and Diosmari. I’ll be fine.” But then Yuuri remembered something. “But isn’t Adé Haitian?”

“I am!” Adé said as they walked past the kitchen. They were holding the gift bags. “But my birth dad's side of the family is from the South, and it'd be a damn shame if I suggested nothing that we all can eat and was tasty _and_ was clean for Mama.”

“Adé, you still have to explain what you mean by ‘Southern Haitian,’” Phichit said.

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” Adé said. They came into the kitchen when they were done in the living room. “Did you check the macaroni and cheese?” Phichit stepped aside and opened the oven for Adé. They pulled the grate with a dishrag and uncovered the macaroni and cheese. “Oh man, this looks good.” Adé moaned. “This brings me back to my childhood.” Yuuri walked over to an aluminum pan and uncovered it. There was fried chicken in there.

“And this makes me think it’s Christmas,” Yuuri said.

“Christmas?” Adé said. They were looking back at Yuuri, looking at the chicken.

“Yeah, we eat KFC for Christmas. It’s a tradition.” Adé nodded and went to pull out another pan. “What else are you looking at?”

“Peach cobbler. I made it myself using my Nana’s recipe.” Adé smiled. “May Nana Anaïse rest in power.” Adé uncovered the peach cobbler and smiled. “Okay, this is done. Phichit, you can take this out now.” Adé covered the peach cobbler and gave Phichit the dishrag.

"Why are you giving me this? Give me the gloves!" Adé passed the oven mitts to Phichit, and he took it out and placed it on a stove eye. "You have ice cream, don't you?"

“What kind of ice cream?” Phichit asked.

“Vanilla.” Phichit checked the freezer. “Do you have it?” He shook his head. “Someone has to run out and get it.” Adé looked at Phichit. “I _said_ –”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you,” Phichit said. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll run out and get it.” Phichit left the kitchen, and Adé followed behind him. Yuuri hadn't seen Khoudia come out of the room, so they went back there to check on her. She was trying to tie the balloons to a notch on the bedpost. Phichit had ignored her trying to tie the balloons together. He was changing. 

“So, where are you going, Phichit?” Khoudia asked once she thought she had the strings tied.

“Supermarket. Adé said we need vanilla ice cream.”

“For what?”

“The peach cobbler,” Phichit said. “You know, Adé did most of the cooking for tonight.” Phichit took off his pajama pants and went in his drawer for a pair of sweatpants. He grabbed the hoodie off of the desk. “I wonder if Adé is okay with whipped cream.”

“Whipped cream works, too,” Adé said from the doorway. “Take your pick on which one you want.”

“Which one did Nana Anaïse use?”

“When she was a little girl – when her family could afford it, that is – they used vanilla ice cream.” Adé yawned. “Have you decided on what you’re getting?” Phichit nodded. “Nice. I gotta pee, though.”

“Then go pee,” Khoudia said. “You won’t be missing anything.” Phichit pulled the hoodie over his head and put his arms in the sleeves. Adé nodded and went to use the bathroom. Khoudia sat on Yuuri’s bed, still trying with the balloons.

“Khoudia, you don’t have to tie the balloons.”

“I _know_ , but I don't want them to be free-floating,” she said. Yuuri took the balloons out of her hands and tied them to the closet door. It didn’t take long at all. “Just making me look bad,” Khoudia said. She laughed. Phichit got his scarf off of the back of a chair and wrapped it around his neck. He left the room and went into the living room for his shoes and coat. Yuuri yawned. “I’m tired, too.”

“You didn’t have to come over.”

“I _know_ , but I wanted to be here for the surprise.” Khoudia yawned and relaxed. “Have you checked your phone?” Yuuri shook their head; their phone was still in their coat. They went back into the living room and went to their coat. Phichit was sitting on the sofa, putting his sneakers on. Yuuri bent down to kiss Phichit’s forehead. Phichit smiled.

“What are you doing in here?”

“I came to get my phone.” Phichit nodded. Yuuri reached into their coat pocket and took it out. They flopped on the sofa. "See? It got got." Phichit nodded again. He tied his left shoe and went to put on his coat. 

“Don’t set the apartment on fire while I’m gone,” Phichit said. Yuuri nodded. They heard the toilet flush and the faucet run. “And don’t forget to ask Adé about the macaroni and cheese.” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll be off now.”

“Do you have your keys? And your wallet?” Yuuri asked. Phichit went into the kitchen to get his keys. Then he patted his pockets to feel for his wallet; it was in his right pocket. “Do you have everything?” Phichit nodded. “Alright,” Yuuri said. “We’ll hold down the fort for you.”

“Good!” Phichit said. And, with that, Phichit was off. Yuuri locked the door behind him and flopped on the love seat. Would they be able to eat with their rink mates tonight? They could barely keep their eyes open right now. What if – by some unfortunate stroke of luck – they fell face-first into the macaroni and cheese Adé and Phichit put so much love and devotion into? Not only would it be embarrassing for Yuuri, they felt that it would be disrespectful to Phichit, Adé, and the macaroni and cheese. Yuuri yawned and unlocked their phone. They had a text from Victor.

> Victor: Are you back in Detroit?
> 
> : I am.
> 
> Victor: I want to see you.
> 
> Victor: When is our date?
> 
> : Erm… Thursday? Are you busy on Thursday?

Yuuri yawned and stared up at the ceiling. They were snapped out of their trance when they heard their phone ping.

> Victor: I’ll make myself not busy.
> 
> Victor: What time?
> 
> : 7pm.
> 
> Victor: What are we doing?
> 
> : We can go to this Cajun restaurant downtown.

Adé came out of the bathroom and sat in the living room. “Did Phichit leave already?” Yuuri nodded. Adé left the living room to go into the kitchen. Yuuri heard the stove open, and Adé say something under their breath. They took the aluminum pan out of the oven and set it on another stove eye. If Yuuri was interpreting everything correctly, the macaroni and cheese was done, and Adé couldn't wait to dig into it. Adé removed the macaroni and cheese from the oven and put it on another stove eye. They were excited and satisfied. 

Yuuri felt their eyelids droop. Their phone pinged.

> Victor: Is it good?
> 
> : I’ve had a Doberge cake from there. It was great. 
> 
> Victor: So we’ll go there. Do you want me to meet you, or do you want to meet me?

Khoudia came into the living room and flopped on the sofa. She yawned. “I’m so tired.”

Yuuri looked over at Adé. They turned off the oven and came into the living room. They flopped on the sofa next to Khoudia and rested their head on her shoulder. “You didn’t have to come over,” Yuuri reminded her. Khoudia made an incomprehensible sound and cuddled up to Adé. Yuuri looked at their phone.

> : I can meet you.

Yuuri yawned and looked over at Khoudia and Adé. They took a picture of them and posted it to their story on Snapchat and captioned it: mother and son ((heart with bow emoji)) Yuuri yawned again. Khoudia stroked Adé’s back. Despite Khoudia loathing children and loathing motherhood, she loves her Adé like a mother loves her child. Maybe Khoudia had the right idea when she said she was with her family. When did they become a family? How? Earlier, Yuuri surely would’ve described their arrangement as such, but they were at a loss for when and how this all came together. 

“Dad,” Adé said. Yuuri didn’t respond. “ _Dad_ ,” Adé said again. “Dad!” Adé threw their sock at Yuuri’s face.

“What?!” Yuuri yelled when they got a whiff of Adé’s sock. They need to wash them ASAP.

“Why do you look so dead?”

“Because I haven’t slept in days,” Yuuri said. They threw Adé’s sock back at them. “Wash your crusty ass socks.” Khoudia giggled. Yuuri yawned. Adé put their sock back on their foot and buried their nose into Khoudia’s neck. Yuuri yawned again and looked at their phone.

> Victor: So, wyd now that you’re back in Detroit?
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]
> 
> : That’s Adé and Khoudia. They’re going to be eating with Phichit and me tonight.

Yuuri had sent the picture they posted on Snapchat to Victor. It was a cute photo, and Yuuri loved it. It was soft and sweet and fitting for the both of them.

> Victor: They’re black?
> 
> : Very.
> 
> : What did you expect?
> 
> Victor: Idk. I guess I just didn’t expect it.

“Who are you talking to?” Khoudia asked. Khoudia had been looking at Yuuri look at their phone.

“Victor,” Yuuri said.

“‘Victor’ who?” Adé asked.

“My boyfriend,” Yuuri told their son.

“You have a boyfriend?!” Adé rolled out of Khoudia’s embrace and onto the floor. They scrambled up and over to Yuuri. “Let me see!!” Yuuri went to their photos and showed Adé a picture of him. “Dad, that’s just your celebrity crush.” Yuuri smirked.

“No, it’s not,” Yuuri said. They looked for the group of selfies they took at the park. “See? That’s my boyfriend.”

“Are **_you_** telling **_me_** that Victor Nikiforov is not only in Detroit but is dating my parent?!" Adé yelled. Yuuri and Khoudia nodded. “And you knew, Mama?!”

“No one told me until recently,” Khoudia said. She took out her phone and started texting. “I was just as surprised as you.” Adé laid face down on the floor and started to make sobbing sounds.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked, touching their son’s right calf with their foot.

“I’m not okay,” Adé said. Yuuri gently patted Adé’s back with their foot. “I’m not okay right now.” Yuuri nodded and took a flick of Adé lying on the floor. “This is the biggest secret that’s ever been kept from me,” Adé moaned. “I can’t believe this. I’m not okay.”

When Phichit came back with the ice cream, Adé was still lying on the floor. “What is going on here?” Phichit said. He locked the door and kicked off their shoes. He quickly put the ice cream in the freezer and then came back to the living room. He was taking off his coat when he poked Adé in the ribs.

“Ah!”

“Oh good, you’re alive,” Phichit said. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Because Dad is dating Victor Nikiforov, and no one told me,” Adé said. They rolled on their front and yawned. “No one told me this. I feel betrayed.”

“So did your mother when it was revealed.”

"I'm still hurt about it," Khoudia said. "But Phichit is back, and I'm hungry." Khoudia squatted and patted Adé's behind. "Get up. It's time to eat." Khoudia stepped over Adé and went into the kitchen. Yuuri got up and picked Adé up to put them on the loveseat.

“Mama!” Adé yelled.

“Yeah?” Khoudia poked her head out of the kitchen.

“Can you fix me a plate?” Adé asked.

“Yes, baby,” Khoudia said. She returned to the interior of the kitchen and got plates out of the cabinet. Khoudia gave Adé a big scoop of macaroni and cheese and a chicken breast. “What do you want to drink?”

“The sweet tea I made is in the fridge.” Khoudia nodded and went back into the kitchen. When she was doing that, Yuuri and Phichit were fixing their plates. Khoudia poured sweet tea for all of them and brought a glass to Adé. Then Khoudia went back into the kitchen for the final time and came out with her plate and sweet tea. She took a seat next to Adé, and Adé passed Khoudia her phone. Khoudia took a sip of the sweet tea and made a face. “What? Is it not enough sugar?” Adé asked. Yuuri and Phichit came out of the kitchen and sat on the sofa.

“No, it’s _too_ sweet!” Yuuri looked at the glass of sweet tea.

“Oh, good. I made it correctly then.” Khoudia looked aghast. “You need to have a lot of sugar in sweet teas. Only way to make sure that it’s right.”

“I have diabetes!” Khoudia yelled.

“Already?” Adé asked. “Well, we can’t pour your tea back into the jug.” Ade scratched their face. “Y’all got a funnel I can use?” Phichit nodded. “Also, do you have something Mama can drink?" Phichit nodded. "Great. I'm pouring my tea back in. We not about to waste this tea." Adé got up and grabbed their glass. "We got you, Mama.” Phichit and Adé went into the kitchen with Adé’s untouched glass of sweet tea and figured out what they could give her to drink.

“Do you have enough insulin on you?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia nodded. “You should check your sugar.” Yuuri got up and went to their carry on bag. They had Khoudia’s meter and glycogen on them the entire time that they were in Russia. Yuuri came back into the living room with Khoudia’s meter. She checked her sugar; it was within a normal range. The dread in Yuuri’s chest dissipated once they saw the number. Phichit and Adé came back from the kitchen. Adé was holding a can of Cherry Coke; they gave it and a straw to Khoudia.

"Thank you," she said. Adé sat down, and Khoudia kissed her baby's cheek. Khoudia opened the can and took a sip of soda. She took a bite of macaroni and cheese and made a face.

“What?” Adé asked. “Is it not good?” Khoudia swallowed and smiled. “Mama?”

“Adé, this is great!” Yuuri and Phichit simultaneously looked at the macaroni and cheese. “You two need to taste it!” Yuuri and Phichit took a forkful of macaroni and cheese and ate. It was good – really good. Adé took a bite of the chicken breast as their parents and Phichit ate their macaroni and cheese. By the time Adé finished eating their chicken, Yuuri, Khoudia, and Phichit finished eating their macaroni and cheese. They were blown away by how good and cheesy it was.

“So Olivia is back,” Adé said as they wiped their fingers. “Do I have to start calling them mom now, too?” Khoudia made a face.

“No,” Khoudia said.

“Okay, good,” Adé said. “Because I don’t want to call them ‘mom.’”

“We’re not going to make you call them ‘mom’ if you don’t want to,” Khoudia said.

“We don’t even make you call us ‘Mama' or ‘Dad,'" Yuuri pointed out. “It’s not in our place to make that decision for you.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Adé said. “What are you going to do when she actually comes back?” They put down their plate and looked at the floor.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said.

“How do you not know?” Khoudia asked. “You’re going to dinner with her tomorrow.”

“What?!” Phichit yelled. “You’re going to dinner with her?! You told me that you weren’t going to see her!”

“I _thought_ I wasn’t going to see her!” Yuuri said, equally as loud. “But I am.” Yuuri looked at their food. “I’m going to see her.” They let that soak in. They were going to see Olivia tomorrow. They were going to see her. Soon there was a new breed of dread residing in their chest. They were really going to see her tomorrow.

You know who else they were going to see tomorrow?

Victor.

Yuuri sighed. They didn’t know how they were going to tell Victor that this dinner with Olivia was imminent. "Do you need me to pick out your clothes for tomorrow?" Phichit asked. Yuuri nodded. “Okay, I’ll do that later.” There was an uncomfortable silence between all four of them.

“Victor knows I’m a figure skater now,” Yuuri said, trying to break the silence. "Christophe told him, and Victor watched me skate." 

“Tragic, just tragic,” Adé said, tongue-in-cheek.

“Adé, stop being salty that no one told you about Victor,” Phichit said. “Even Khoudia wasn’t that salty.” Phichit picked up his chicken leg. “And Khoudia is the Monarch of Salt.” Phichit took a bite out of his leg.

“It’s true. I’m the Monarch of Salt,” Khoudia said.

“Fuck! I forgot the hot sauce!” Adé bounced up and went into the kitchen. Yuuri got up and followed Adé. “Dad, where’s the hot sauce?” Yuuri went into the cabinet to the top left of the stove and got the hot sauce. They gave it to Adé. "Thank you." They went back into the living room, and Adé put the hot sauce on the coffee table. "In case any of y'all have a hankering for hot sauce on your chicken."

“The chicken has enough flavor and spice. I don’t think the hot sauce would be necessary,” Phichit said.

“Well, take the hot sauce anyway,” Adé said. They sat down. Khoudia was silently eating her chicken and she stopped to grab the hot sauce. Phichit looked at her.

“You gotta put hot sauce on your chicken,” Khoudia said. She put some on her thigh and ate. “So, Yuuri, did Victor make any plans with you for your birthday?”

“He doesn’t know when my birthday is,” Yuuri said. They took a bite of their chicken breast and chewed. Khoudia, Adé, and Phichit were all deadpan. “What?”

“How does your boyfriend not know when your birthday is?” Adé asked. They were flustered. "Why haven't you told him?"

“He never asked.”

“I didn’t ask if he asked,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked over at her, squinting. Yuuri wasn’t talking to her. “I said ‘why haven’t you told him?’”

“First of all, Adé said that. Not you,” Yuuri said.

“Aah, I know what was said,” Khoudia said. “You tell him when your birthday is.” She sucked her teeth and resumed eating her chicken. Yuuri looked at Adé; they shrugged and dabbed some hot sauce on their chicken breast.

> Victor: So what are you doing with Adé and Khoudia?
> 
> : Well, Phichit came back from getting ice cream, so right now we’re eating dinner.
> 
> Victor: You’re eating ice cream for dinner?
> 
> : No. Adé and Phichit made this particular meal, so we're eating that. The ice cream is part of the dessert.
> 
> : Actually, it was less Phichit and more Adé. Phichit helped, but it was mostly Adé that did the work.

Yuuri looked at the hot sauce, debating on if they should put some on their chicken. Adé saw this internal struggle and just passed the hot sauce to Yuuri. “Try it, Dad,” they said. Yuuri tentatively took the hot sauce and dabbed it on the chicken breast. They took a bite and decided that they liked this. Adé nodded in support of Yuuri being in approval of this.

“So who’s idea was it to put hot sauce on chicken?” Yuuri asked.

"I don't know, but I know that you just do it, and it's really good," Adé said. "It's like putting salt or lemon on watermelon. You don't know why you do it, but it's delicious. It _is_ good, right?" Yuuri nodded. Khoudia reached for the hot sauce again, and Yuuri passed it to her. “I should cook for y’all more often. Y’all need this.” Yuuri, Phichit, and Khoudia make various sounds and gestures of agreement. “And I need this, too. Jordan hates it when I cook for them.”

“Speaking of Jordan,” Phichit said, “how are they?”

“Jordan’s fine,” Adé said. They finished up their chicken breast and continued to eat their macaroni and cheese. There was another uncomfortable silence.

“We don’t like Jordan,” Khoudia blurted out.

"I know," Adé said as they took a sip of Khoudia's abandoned sweet tea. "I'd have to be as dense as Dad not to notice that." Yuuri looked at Adé and finished their chicken breast.

"Cheap shot," Yuri said when they finished chewing.

“We think you should leave them,” Khoudia said.

“I know,” Adé said again and took another sip of sweet tea.

“Will you ever?” Phichit asked.

“I’ll leave once I get myself situated,” Adé said.

“And how long will that take?” Yuuri asked. Adé shrugged. They got up to place their empty plate in the sink and returned to drink their sweet tea. “We just want you to be okay.”

“And I’ll be okay,” Adé said. “I know what I’m doing. Just trust me.” Yuuri nodded and resumed eating. “Y’all don’t believe me, do you?”

“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Khoudia said. “We just want this to be over as soon as possible. I’ve said that you can stay with me several times. My parents won’t mind!”

“Your parents are Muslim," Adé stressed. "I'm transgender, and I do Vodoun. They won’t want me there.”

“They don’t _care_ that you’re trans and do voodoo, Adé,” Khoudia said.

“They don’t _care_ , or they don't _know_? Because there’s a difference, Mama." Adé asked. Khoudia remained silent. "I won't risk it. I'm grateful that you want to help me, but I won't risk it." There was another uncomfortable silence. They've talked about Victor, Olivia, and Jordan, and now they were all feeling uncomfortable.

"Are we all done here?" Phichit asked as he got up. "We should have dessert now. I can't wait to taste Adé's Nana's peach cobbler." Phichit took all the plates into the kitchen and dumped the bones. He placed the dishes in the sink and poked his head out of the kitchen. "Get your dessert. I'm not doing this. This ain’t IHOP.” Phichit poked his head back into the kitchen. Adé was the first to get up to get some dessert. Yuuri checked his phone.

> : NOW we’re eating dessert.
> 
> Victor: What’s for dessert?
> 
> : Adé made peach cobbler.
> 
> Victor: Is it good?
> 
> : Idk. I haven’t tried it yet.

Yuuri forced themselves up and stretched. They might as well get some cobbler before Adé devours all of it. Khoudia was still sitting when Yuuri started to go to the kitchen. “Are you okay?” They asked.

“I’m fine,” Khoudia said. She wiped her face and took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go get dessert.” Yuuri nodded. Khoudia got up and followed Yuuri into the kitchen. They all got their peach cobbler and returned to the living room.

“I didn’t get carded when I bought wine recently,” Phichit said, trying to bring life back into the room. “It was an exhilarating experience.”

“It’s not exhilarating when you get caught,” Adé said. “Next time, just have one of us go with you and buy it for you.”

“I would’ve had Yuuri do it, but they were in Moscow getting their back blown out.” Yuuri looked up from their cobbler to look at Phichit. “And, speaking of getting backs blown out, Yuuri, you better not sleep with Victor tomorrow.” Adé choked.

“What?!” Adé yelled.

“Khoudia, what did you tell Phichit about our sleepover?!” Yuuri yelled. Khoudia started cackling. “I was _not_ getting my back blown out!”

“Well, then Khoudia interpreted Christophe flirting with you entirely wrong!” Phichit yelled back. Adé slumped to the floor in defeat. Yuuri got on the floor next to Adé and started to pat their head.

“Look, you’ve misinterpreted me. All I was saying was that Chris was _looking_ at Yuuri like he wants to blow their back out.” Phichit made a face. “See? Misinterpreted. Just going around, spreading these fallacious rumors. How you feel, Phichit?”

“Shut up, Khoudia,” Phichit said.

“I am still so confused,” Yuuri said.

“Same!” Adé said. “When did Victor and Dad start fucking? When did y’all find out? Why didn’t I know? What happened at this sleepover?” Adé sat up and extended their legs. “I demand answers.” Adé looked over at Yuuri. They wanted answers, and they wanted them now.

“Victor and I became physically… I don’t have to explain this to you.” Yuuri took a spoonful of ice cream and ate. “Khoudia could tell you all about the sleepover, though.” They gave Khoudia a sympathetic look and shrugged.

“Someone needs to bring me up to speed on everything,” Adé said. They looked over at Phichit. “Phichit.” Phichit grimaced. “Phichit, tell me everything.”

“Okay, so,” he started. Yuuri groaned. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had just told us! Now I have to explain it to Adé because you don’t want to talk about it!” Yuuri rolled their eyes and had a bite of the actual cobbler. It was good. Really good. “So Yuuri and Victor started sleeping with each other on their first date, but they've been talking since the start of the semester." 

“Since the _beginning_ of the semester,” Adé repeated.

“Yes!” Phichit wailed. “You didn’t know for the same reasons that Khoudia and I didn’t know. Yuuri just didn't tell us. We found this out when Victor went over to Japan for the NHK event, but it was less like we 'found out' and more like we took the leap and told Yuuri that we think that and they didn’t deny it.” Adé sucked their teeth and looked at Yuuri.

“So, my dad is fucking Victor Nikiforov.”

“It only happened twice,” Yuuri said.

“So, what happened the second time?” Khoudia said, smirking. Yuuri looked at the melting vanilla ice cream. They wished that the floor could swallow them up right now. They aren’t used to their sexual habits being under scrutiny. “You hoed out, didn’t you?” She accused.

“It wasn’t exactly like that.”

“It was _exactly_ like that,” Khoudia said. She and Phichit laughed and took a bite of the peach cobbler. Khoudia made a face in approval of the dessert Adé made.

“I am not that much of a hoe,” Yuuri asserted.

“But you _are_ admitting that you are a hoe,” Phichit said.

“This brings me back to that guy,” Khoudia wistfully said. “Remember that guy that you were telling me about when you were a sophomore? Was it Marcus? I feel like it was Marcus.”

“It was not Marcus,” Yuuri said.

“It was Paul,” Adé said.

“You’re all wrong. It’s something white. Something like Chad or Chadwick,” Phichit said.

“It turns out all three of you are idiots. It was Jason,” Yuuri said. “And this is _nothing_ like him,” Yuuri spoke, anticipating their next question. "Victor likes me like I like him." Yuuri took a bite of cobbler. “This is a good cobbler, Adé. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“Thank you, Dad, but don’t try and get off topic.” Adé took a bite of the dessert they made.

“And what _is_ the topic, Adé?” Yuuri asked.

“Victor brings out your inner hoe.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “And that you’ve only been this bad for two other people… that we know of.” Adé took a big bite of their cobbler.

“Why can’t we just discuss Phichit?”

“Because I’m asexual, and I’m not trying to get involved with anyone during college,” Phichit sassed. Yuuri looked at Phichit; he was smirking.

“What about Khoudia? Khoudia, how is that girl you met at the bar?” Yuuri frantically asked.

“She’s fine. Her girlfriend is fine, too,” she said. “But back to _you_.” Yuuri groaned and rolled their eyes. “How is Victor different from Jason? And Olivia? I need an explanation.”

“He…” Yuuri lacked the words right now. How could they put into words the way Victor makes them feel? How could they word this in such a way that was apt and wouldn’t cause their rink mates to laugh at them? “I don’t know how to put it. He makes me feel different.” Yuuri took another bite of the cobbler; they were halfway finished with it now. “I don’t know how to word it. But I like him a lot.”

“And you have to tell him that,” Khoudia says with a mouthful of cobbler.

“I told him to listen to this song. It puts how I feel in words.”

“You can’t do that,” Phichit chastised. “Well, you _can_ , but it’s better to have these things told to you. It makes it more meaningful.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. Phichit snapped his fingers. “You know what you should do? You need a grand gesture to display how you feel! That’s what’ll seal the deal!”

“Wouldn’t something more small and intimate be better?” Yuuri questioned. "It's me, and it's Victor. We're usually… I don't know. We've been pretty quiet about all of this." Yuuri looked at their fingertips. Adé shrugged.

“I haven’t had this problem in almost two years,” Adé mused. Then their phone started to ring. “And that should be my partner.” Adé got up and walked over to their phone. They unplugged it from the auxiliary cord and answered the call. “Yeah?” They said. “Sorry, sorry.” Phichit, Yuuri, and Khoudia fell into silence, all trying to focus on Adé's conversation. "I'm not just saying that. I'm really sorry." Yuuri took a bite of cobbler. They put the rim of the bowl against their lips and slurped at the melted vanilla ice cream. "I'm leaving once I finish my peach cobbler." Adé sighed. "They had just come in, and I wanted to see them, remember? Aren't I allowed to see my parents?" Yuuri took another bite of cobbler. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Phichit made a face of disapproval. “I’ll leave once the cobbler is finished. I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.” Khoudia looked over at Adé. “I promise that I’ll call you when I’m on my way. Bye.” The call ended. Yuuri, Phichit, and Khoudia made themselves look busy, but it was for naught. Adé knew damn well that everyone was listening in and that they were formulating their opinions.

“Jordan?” Khoudia said, breaking the silence. She knew it was Jordan. They all knew that it was Jordan.

“Jordan,” Adé said as they walked back to their seat. They finished their peach cobbler and took a sip of their iced tea. They all remained painfully silent. “What? Isn’t anyone going to say anything?” Adé leaned back on the loveseat. “Jordan might’ve called, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t have a cheerful conversation. Do you hate Jordan so much that they suck the life out of you?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said. Adé awkwardly chuckled.

"We should start opening gifts," Khoudia said. She was trying to rejuvenate the room. She was trying. "I think you're going to like Phichit's gift!" Khoudia got up to get the gift bags. She snatched them up and placed them in front of Yuuri. Khoudia smiled joyfully. Yuuri held Khoudia’s face in their hands and kissed her forehead. Khoudia gushed. “Start with this one. I think you’ll like this one.” Khoudia placed the small bag in Yuuri’s lap. She sat back next to Adé.

Yuuri opened the gift bag and took the item out. “It’s a pencil case,” Yuuri muttered. They examined the pouch. It was beige and had a floral design.

“Nope! Open it! Open all of it!” Phichit beamed. Yuuri unzipped the larger pouch. There was a chew necklace in the shape of a lotus flower and a chew lanyard. Phichit gestured for Yuuri to continue. Yuuri opened the smaller pouch. There was a black spinner ring and a bead ring in that one. Yuuri took out the bead ring and ran it over the back of their hand. “Do you like it?” Phichit asked. He grabbed on to Yuuri’s arm. “I thought you’d need less conspicuous ways to stim, so I thought that stim toys would be a good fit! The chew toys might be toeing the line, but the bead ring and the spinner ring should be good!” Yuuri looked down at the pouch with the stim toys. "And I changed your sheets because I got you a weighted blanket. It's really snug, and that might be nice for you. I was able to find one with stars on it since I know you like stars." Phichit smiled. "Do you like it?" Yuuri zipped up the pouch and put it on the table. They gave Phichit a tight hug.

“Happy,” Yuuri murmured. Phichit returned the hug and made it tighter than Yuuri’s.

“I’m glad that you like it. I was worried that you wouldn’t.” Yuuri smiled, and Phichit let go. They put the pouch on the coffee table and looked at it. They could get used to having stim toys.

“Open mine next!” Adé wailed. They passed Yuuri a small, folded brown bag. "It might not be much – it really isn't much – but it's the only thing I could think of. I hope that you like it." Yuuri unfolded the brown bag and reached into it. They pulled out a set of small, white seed beads that had two large, coral-colored beads on it. “I had it blessed for you,” Adé said.

“What do I do with it?”

“Put it on.” Yuuri put the beaded necklace around their neck. They looked at it. “Do you like it?” Yuuri nodded. “I’m glad! I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

“What do I do with it when I want to take it off?”

“Reach back in the bag,” Adé said. There was a white handkerchief at the bottom of the bag. They pulled it out and touched it. It was soft. “You put it in there.” Yuuri nodded. They folded the handkerchief and placed it on top of the stim toys pouch.

Khoudia decided that now was the time to cut in. “I got you something, too, but it’s actually in my suitcase at home.” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll give you mine later. Open Masa and Tal’at’s gift next.” Khoudia shoved a bag over to Yuuri with her foot. Yuuri reached into the pastel pink bag; there was a moderately sized item wrapped in paper in it. Yuuri carefully undid the paper wrapping and saw the spines of books. It was The Essential Rumi, Lolita, and The Bell Jar.

“Masa said that you could use a new book to read,” Adé said. “So she gave you The Essential Rumi. Then Tal’at, thinking we were doing a book exchange, gave you Lolita and The Bell Jar." Adé smiled. "She was kind of disappointed to discover that we were not doing a book exchange, but she said that you could keep the books anyway." Yuuri smiled. They could try and expand their literature palate some more. They were already reading Crime and Punishment; what harm would reading three more books do? Yuuri smiled and put the three books next to the stim pouch and eleke handkerchief. Phichit placed his face against Yuuri’s arm.

"I wonder what Victor would've gotten you if he knew about your birthday," Phichit mused aloud. Khoudia muttered something, and Phichit gasped. "That's so dirty, Khoudia!"

“It’s true, though!” Khoudia said. “Now that I think about it, you could be finer than aged wine and have trash dick game.”

“It’s true. You can,” Adé said. “My ex-boyfriend, Flynn, was pretty hot, but his dick game was awful.” Yuuri started laughing. “Dad even knows that it’s true.”

“It’s true,” Yuuri murmured.

“You should know,” Khoudia said.

"Wait, what?!" Adé yelled. Adé was shook, and so was Yuuri. “What?” They yelled.

“That was a joke, you two,” Khoudia said, stroking Adé’s shoulder. “I was joking.” Khoudia took a sip of her cherry coke. She had finished her peach cobbler while Yuuri was opening Phichit’s gift. “You two are easy to mess around with.” Khoudia started to laugh.

“To our detriment!” Adé said and nudged their mother. “You could say _one_ thing and have us die, Mama.”

“Such a dangerous power I wield,” Khoudia said. “I must be careful not to abuse it.” She took a sip of cherry coke. Adé took a sip of Khoudia’s cherry coke, too. “Doesn’t mean I won’t fuck around with it from time to time.”

“Khoudia, you’re honestly awful,” Phichit said. “You had me thinking things. Things that I do not think about. Things I don’t _want_ to think about.” Khoudia laughed and shrugged.

Adé got up and stretched. “I think I should get going. Jordan is probably furiously texting me about… something. I don’t know. Something Jordan gets mad about.”

“So, you mean everything?” Yuuri asked.

Adé spoke after a beat. “Yes.” They hesitated, grabbed their phone, and put on their coat. “Also, you can call me ‘he’ now.” Adé was halfway out of the door when Yuuri, Khoudia, and Phichit called him back.

“What do you mean by ‘you can call me ‘he’ now’?” Khoudia asked.

“I meant what I said. Call me ‘he’ now.” Adé closed the door and stood in front of it, clutching the doorknob. “I want to be referred to with masculine pronouns now. Can you respect that?” Khoudia, Yuuri, and Phichit nodded.

“Of course we can,” Khoudia said. She got up and approached Adé. “But why do you think that you can drop a bombshell like that and just leave?” Khoudia embraced Adé tenderly. “We love you.” Phichit got up and joined in on the hug. Yuuri sat there and looked at them. “Yuuri, join in on the hug,” Khoudia commanded.

“Must I?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes!” Khoudia hissed. Yuuri got up and threw their arms around Khoudia, Phichit, and Adé. Khoudia got on her toes and kissed Adé’s forehead and directed Yuuri to do the same. “You need to get back before Jordan starts to get angrier. We’ll text you.” Adé nodded. He grabbed the doorknob, opened the door, and left with a weight off of his chest.

“Well, that was nice,” Phichit said. He stretched.

“Phichit,” Khoudia said, “you’ve done enough tonight. Yuuri and I will do the dishes.”

“Praise be because I was not looking forward to doing it.” Phichit got up and put the macaroni and cheese, chicken, and peach cobbler in the fridge. “I’m going to take a well-deserved nap now.” Yuuri got up and went into the kitchen. They started running hot water over the plates. Khoudia came into the kitchen with her shirt off – she was wearing an undershirt and her pants. She picked up a dish and the rag and looked around for the dish soap.

Yuuri passed it to her. “I wash, you dry,” Khoudia said. “Also, can you take me home when we’re done?” Yuuri nodded and grabbed the towel off of the countertop. Yuuri waited for Khoudia to pass them the dishes. They made conversation about the exhibition skate and Chris and today in general. Khoudia wished that they were able to get in another Smash round, but she was grateful that she got what she got.

When they finished the dishes, Khoudia dried her hands and sat on the sofa. She took a sip of her cherry coke. She yawned. “I’m so tired,” Khoudia complained. Yuuri nodded in agreement. “Are you going to text Victor?” Yuuri nodded. “Good. Text your baby.”

> Victor: How’s the dinner going?
> 
> : It went well.
> 
> Victor: What did you have to eat?
> 
> : Baked macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, and peach cobbler. It was a very southern meal.
> 
> Victor: Did you enjoy it?
> 
> : Very much.

Khoudia yawned, and her face scrunched up. "Do you think that my parents will let me stay the night?"

“Probably not,” Yuuri said. “They might want to see you. You _were_ off in Russia with a sexual deviant, after all.”

“That’s a weird way to talk about your friend,” Khoudia said. She didn’t catch Yuuri’s joke; she’ll figure it out when she does. “I don't want to go home right now, though,” she whined.

“But you should. I’m sure your parents would be glad to see you.” Khoudia shrugged. “Did your mom call you?” Khoudia took out her phone and checked her calls. She shook her head.

> Olivia: I can’t wait to see you tomorrow
> 
> Olivia: I’m so excited!!
> 
> Olivia: PLEASE tell me that you’re excited, too
> 
> : I am.

Yuuri yawned. “Are you tired?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri nodded. “Good. I hope you’ll be able to get a restful sleep tonight. You deserve it.” Khoudia examined her nails again. “And _I_ deserve to change up my nails.” Yuuri chuckled. “How would a nude color look on my fingers?”

“It technically wouldn’t be nude if it was on you,” Yuuri pointed out. Khoudia nodded. “How about a dark, sparkling purple color?”

“Do you think that it’d go with almond-shaped nails?”

“I don’t see why not,” Yuuri said.

“I hope Adeola and Fatou decide to get their nails done, too.” Despite Khoudia always complaining about Adeola and Fatoumatta and them hating her, she loves her older sisters dearly. “Fatou’s nails are looking crusty, so she should get them done.” She chuckled. “When are you going to see your therapist?”

“Next Tuesday.” Khoudia nodded. She yawned. “Am I boring you?” Yuuri rhetorically asked her.

“Of course not. I’m just tired.” She yawned again. “I think I want to go home now,” she said. Yuuri got up and put on their shoes. Khoudia unhurriedly followed suit. They put on their coats, and Khoudia went to get Yuuri’s keys.

She came back, placed them in their hand, and they locked the door behind them. Khoudia didn’t open her mouth until they were a block away from the apartment. “Okay, I’m upset,” she said. Yuuri looked over at her. “Well, I’m not right now, but I was earlier.” Yuuri nodded. “It just upsets me that Adé thinks that my parents will hate him for being transgender.”

“If that’s the case, why haven’t you come out to your parents?” Yuuri asked.

"Because they'll disown me." She paused. "I see his argument. But it's different. I'm their child; Adé isn't." Khoudia sucked her teeth; she looked disconsolate. "I just don't want Adé to be with Jordan so that they have a roof over their head." Yuuri grabbed her hand. “I blame Adé’s parents,” she said. Yuuri nodded in agreement. “We wouldn’t have to worry if they hadn’t kicked our baby out.” She moved closer to Yuuri and embraced them. “I just want Adé to be okay. I don’t want them to have to worry about where they’ll be sleeping if Jordan tries anything.” Yuuri stroked her head. Two people looked on at them.

“For someone who swears that they don’t have a maternal bone in them, you worry like you are one.”

“A mom has to look after her kids,” she murmured. “Even if that mom is… me.” She dryly chuckled. “I’m glad someone else did the work for me for the first eighteen years. I could _not_ handle that again. By myself.”

“But you have four younger siblings.”

“I know,” Khoudia said. She let go of Yuuri and grabbed their hand. They kept walking.

When Yuuri and Khoudia reached her home, Adeola and Fatoumatta were coming from the African hair salon with their edges laid and braids looking fire. Despite seeing them several times before, Yuuri couldn’t tell them apart without their hijabs. “Hi Adeola, Fatou,” Yuuri said.

“Hello Yuuri,” Fatoumatta said. Khoudia looked up at Yuuri and then looked at her sisters.

“You should get going, Yuuri,” Khoudia said. “It’s getting late. Phichit might start worrying.” Khoudia looked to be anxious by Yuuri being in proximity to her sisters. Yuuri considered her anxiety and rationalized that it doesn’t make any sense. Yuuri has been around Khoudia’s family many times before.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” Yuuri said. Khoudia nodded and gave them a parting hug. Yuuri turned on their heel and left. When they were at a stop light, they checked their phone.

> Olivia: I feel like your enthusiasm is being feigned
> 
> : It is not.

It was. Yuuri was feeling dread, if anything. 

> Olivia: Suuure it is
> 
> Olivia: I’m surprised that you hadn’t fallen asleep yet
> 
> : I couldn’t. I was eating with Phichit, Khoudia, and Adé.
> 
> Olivia: Adé?
> 
> : Camille to you.

Yuuri looked up at the light. It was still red.

> Olivia: Oh
> 
> Olivia: So they changed their name?
> 
> : Kind of.

Yuuri wasn’t sure if they should explain this to Olivia. They don’t know how Adé would feel about Olivia knowing that they’re trans. They’d have to ask. And soon.

> : Are you okay with Olivia knowing that you’re trans?

Yuuri put their phone to sleep. Adé was still probably on his way to the apartment he shared with Jordan. They briefly wondered what Jordan was going to say to Adé and what fight they’ll have tonight, but they already knew that Adé would tell Khoudia and Khoudia would tell Yuuri and Phichit. Yuuri would get upset about it and start stimming to relieve the frustration they’re feeling. Then Adé would call Yuuri to calm them down, and it'd work, but Yuuri would still be upset and frustrated.

The light changed. Yuuri started to walk. They put their headphones in and decided to listen to ASAP Rocky. It’s been a while since they’ve heard “Suddenly.”

Before Yuuri knew it, they were back at home. They had been listening to “Suddenly” on repeat. The apartment was dark and quiet; Phichit probably got up to turn out the lights once he realized that Yuuri had left to take Khoudia home. Yuuri entered the dark apartment and took off their shoes and coat. They undressed, laid on the sofa, and looked at the ceiling. They could’ve sworn that the shade of white it was got darker. Yuuri checked their phone. Adé had texted back.

> Adé: Only if it’s necessary to tell her.
> 
> : And if she calls you “she”?
> 
> Adé: Correct her, obvs
> 
> : Right, right

Then Yuuri went to Olivia’s messages.

> Olivia: Well, you can explain it all to me when we have dinner tomorrow
> 
> Olivia: I still can’t believe that I’m seeing you after all this time
> 
> : It's unbelievable that we're going to see each other.

Then they went to Victor’s messages.

> : Adé and Khoudia went home. Now I’m just lying on the sofa.
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]

The selfie came out blurry.

> Victor: I have a question.
> 
> Victor: Why is Adé called Adé?
> 
> : That's part of their first name.
> 
> Victor: Part of it?
> 
> : Their full first name is Jean-Adé. Their middle name is just someone else's full name.
> 
> Victor: Isn’t everyone’s middle name just someone else’s full name? Lol
> 
> : No, their name is literally someone else’s full name.
> 
> Victor: I’m afraid I don’t understand.

Yuuri yawned and looked at the screen.

> : François Mackandal.
> 
> : Anyway, "Adé" is short for "Jean-Adé."
> 
> Victor: Why doesn’t Adé use “Jean” instead of “Adé”?
> 
> : Because they have two brothers with “Jean” in their names.
> 
> Victor: [has sent an attachment]

Victor was expressing his confusion, that much was clear to Yuuri. But Yuuri didn't entirely grasp why Victor was so confused. 

> Victor: I am just so confused by this
> 
> : It’s not that confusing.
> 
> Victor: If you say so
> 
> : Jacques, François, and Adé all have “Jean” as part of their first names.

Yuuri got off of the sofa and went to their suitcase, which was still by the door. They crept so that they wouldn’t disturb Phichit’s dozing. They silently opened their suitcase and took out their mint green pajama pants and one of the shirts they _didn’t_ buy when they were in Moscow. Yuuri quietly unpacked their stuff, being conscious of their sleeping roommate. Yuuri shoved the things they purchased in Moscow into the back of the closet. If Phichit found out what Yuuri had bought, they would probably have a full freak-out. “Well, he _did_ say get new clothes,” Yuuri mused as they finished unpacking. “I just happened to pick up a few assorted things while I was getting clothes.” They silently got into bed and looked up at the violet-colored ceiling, thinking about tomorrow.

#


	46. Green Tourmaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri goes to dinner with a person they hadn't seen in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Workers of the world, happy labor day!

#

**(Wednesday, 2 December 2015 – 8:01pm** **, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri slept through the night much to their surprise. They didn’t feel well-rested or satisfied by their sleep, but they slept, and that was what was important to them right now. They texted Khoudia first thing in the morning to let her know what they did. She hadn’t seen the text yet, but they were sure that Khoudia would be happy to know this. And if they had seen Luzia or Noêmia and they had known about Yuuri's episode, they would be glad to know this, too.

Today is Wednesday. They were going to see Olivia this evening and Victor this morning. They yawned. When Yuuri was in the shower, they decided that they wouldn’t need an iced coffee this morning since they slept through the night. Right now, they regretted that decision; they should have gotten that iced coffee. Yuuri bobbed their head up and down as they rocked, trying to clear their headspace of the virulent fog of exhaustion that clouded their brain, but that only made them sleepier. The door opened, but Yuuri didn’t look at it.

“Yuuri?” It was Victor. Yuuri stopped rocking and looked at the door. Victor was still standing there. Victor walked over to Yuuri’s desk. They stood in front of them and bent over to kiss Yuuri’s forehead. “Hello,” Victor said against their hair. Yuuri felt their heart drop. Victor got in their seat and turned his desk towards Yuuri. Did he forget that this was going to bother Yuuri, or did he do this on purpose? “What was it you were doing when I came in?”

“I was rocking,” Yuuri murmured. “I thought it’d make me less tired, but it just made me more tired.” They yawned and scrunched their nose. “How have you been since I’ve been gone?” Yuuri asked.

“Lonely and disconsolate mostly.” Victor placed his head in his hand and looked at Yuuri.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said. Their voice was a little bit louder than a whisper. They were sorry for a lot of things as of late. Yuuri took out their sketchbook. They wanted to draw to escape this feeling. “What could I draw today?” Yuuri asked themselves. They bit their lip and stared at the wall in front of them.

“Did you sleep?” Victor pushed his desk closer to Yuuri’s. Sooner or later, Victor realized that Yuuri was going to ask Victor to move his desk – or move it themselves. Yuuri nodded; they slept like the dead, and yet they’re still tired. “It’ll take a while to get used to the jetlag… And to think that we’ll be in France next week.” Yuuri started to hyperfocus and deconstruct the furniture in front of them. “Yuuri,” Victor said. He touched Yuuri’s shoulder and gently shook them to snap them out of whatever they were held under. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Yuuri murmured. “I was just… I don’t know.”

“You zoned out,” Victor said.

“I guess I did,” Yuuri said. They opened their sketchbook and yawned. “The Grand Prix is next week.” Victor nodded excitedly. “And our date is tomorrow.” Victor nodded again.

“Are you excited?” Victor asked. Yuuri looked over at him, and he was beaming. Yuuri nodded. “You don’t seem excited.”

“I’m excited; trust me.” Yuuri yawned. Despite the dread in their chest and abdomen and the remaining guilt they had for not telling Victor about being a figure skater, they were looking forward to this date. They felt like it would be necessary to have something good after the potential dumpster fire which is tonight. “I’m seeing Olivia tonight,” they murmured.

“Who’s that?”

“That person.” Victor made a face of confusion. “The one I told you about when you came over to watch me draw.” Victor nodded when they realized who they were talking about. Yuuri wished that they could reach out and touch Victor, but they wouldn’t allow themselves to do that. Instead, Yuuri kept their gaze lowered to where their hands were. While Yuuri was in their trance, they placed their hands on their desk.

“You did say you were going to see them after you came back,” Victor said. “You don’t have to go.”

“I know,” Yuuri said.

“Why do you want to see them?” Victor asked. Yuuri remained silent. “Do you miss them _that_ much?” Yuuri didn’t nod or acknowledge his question. They don’t know how they currently feel about Olivia anymore. At first, they felt something akin to anger. They were angry that she came back when they and Khoudia had gotten over her. They were mad that she wanted back into their lives. Then, once they got past the rage and trepidation, they felt nothing. They wanted to feel something – anything – in place of the nothingness, but that’s all they could feel now. Nothing. “Answer me.”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri finally said. “Fix your desk.” Victor’s desk finally started to bother them.

“Yuuri, this isn't the time for that," Victor said. "I'm trying to figure out why you're going to dinner with someone that you used to be with, and you don't care about them." Yuuri looked up at Victor with a deadpan expression. “What?”

“We weren’t together,” Yuuri corrected him. Victor sighed a sigh of relief. “Exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It was an almost relationship,” Yuuri explained. They sighed and felt like there was a small weight lifted off of them. The weight was still there, and Yuuri supposed that another weight would be lifted off of them tonight, but they weren’t so sure if they could wait until then. They needed to shed themselves of these rocks and fast. "I don't have those feelings for her anymore if that's what you're worried about. There's no one on this earth as great as you." Yuuri took a deep breath. “I don’t miss them anymore. I don’t.”

Victor looked at Yuuri and rested his head on their hand. “I believe you,” Victor said. They fixed his desk to how it was supposed to be and turned to face Yuuri. “Look at my gold medalist winner.” Yuuri looked at Victor; they were beaming. Yuuri smiled. When Yuuri woke up this morning, they felt like today would be generally bad, but, right now, today didn’t feel like it would be bad at all.

#

**(Wednesday, 2 December 2015 –** **11:31am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Class was over; they learned about Baroque and Rococo art today. Yuuri drew The Rape of Proserpina today. The classroom was empty except for them, Victor, two girls, and Professor Heiner.

“Mr. Katsuki,” Professor Heiner said. Yuuri looked over at her as they packed their binder in their bag. “Why didn’t I receive your homework for this week?”

“I wasn’t feeling well all last week. Sorry,” they murmured.

“You’re making this a habit,” Professor Heiner complained. Yuuri furrowed their brows. “How has this been a habit?” They thought. They wanted to ask ol’ Halloweentown looking ass but restrained themselves. If they asked something in their ire, it might come out wrong, and they didn’t want to make a scene. “Don’t do that again,” she said and left the room. The moment she stepped out of the room was the moment Yuuri allowed themselves to roll their eyes. They zipped their backpack and got up.

“Let’s go,” Yuuri said. They looked over at Victor. He scrambled to get his things together and got up. He reached the door first.

“For someone who wasn’t feeling well all last week, you skated like you were just fine.” Yuuri nodded. They walked to the library. “Were you actually not feeling well, or did you just tell her that?” Yuuri didn’t respond to Victor’s question. “Yuuri.”

“Yes?”

“Answer the question.”

“Well, I wasn’t well,” Yuuri said. They led Victor to their spot in the library. They sat down and took out their art history binder. They wanted to finish doing the arms on Proserpina. “However, ‘well’ is subjective, so who knows? I might’ve been well after all. I might be _perpetually_ well. Nothing is real.” Victor rolled his eyes. “What?”

“What are you even saying?”

There was a beat. “You know, I don’t know.” Yuuri chuckled.

“I’m going to chalk that up to you being tired,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded and smiled. Victor watched Yuuri draw arms, and he was mesmerized by the way their hand moved. He broke himself out of his trance to ask him something. “Do you want to go out with me tomorrow?” Yuuri stopped drawing and firmly put down his pencil. They sharply inhaled. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Where did you get the idea that I don’t want to go out with you?” Yuuri asked. They closed their binder; they didn’t want to work on something when their bonheur seemed to be bothered.

"You seem out of it, and I don't know how long it'll take for you to snap out of it." Yuuri reached out and stroked Victor’s face; they’ve wanted to do that since they’ve seen them. Victor reached out to touch Yuuri, too. Victor’s thumb stroked the space under Yuuri’s eye. “I don’t want anything to tear us apart.” Yuuri held Victor’s hand firmly. “Let me be there for you.” They moved in to hug Victor as tight as they can physically muster. “I’ve missed you so much while you were gone.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Yuuri said into Victor’s chest. They felt tears prick their eyes. They wished them away – they don’t need to cry right now – but they remained. Yuuri took deep breaths to steady their erratic breathing. Victor stroked Yuuri’s back and held them. “I’m bipolar,” Yuuri murmured into Victor’s chest.

“Are you?” Victor said. Yuuri nodded and kissed Victor’s cold knuckles. “Is that why you go to the doctor every week?” Yuuri nodded. “Is your doctor nice?” Yuuri nodded.

"She's nice. She's nice and motherly; she has been like that since I've been here."

“How long have you been in America?” Victor asked. “You’ve never really mentioned that before.”

“I’ve been here since 2011,” Yuuri responded. Victor looked amazed. "I started seeing Luzia in January 2012. She was so nice." Victor nodded. "My coach worked magic to get me an intake appointment." Victor's nose scrunched. He was a tad bit confused. "I don't know what he did to get me an appointment, but he did. He had me call myself, and they told me that they weren't accepting new patients, but he called, and he did magic and set up an intake appointment for me. Magic. Literally magic." 

“Is she considered a good therapist?” Yuuri shrugged. “How do you not know?”

“Well, I don’t know if she has reviews about her available,” Yuuri said as they put their binder back in their bag. "But I know that she is great, and I have to fight the urge to tell her that I love her every session." Victor arched an eyebrow. "What?" 

“That was funny,” Victor said.

"Luzia is… she's great," Yuuri said. "Noêmia is great, too. I don't see her as often, but she's great, too." Victor nodded. Yuuri was smiling uncontrollably by now. They loved talking about their mental health team; they were devoted to their treatment, and they understood what it's like being an international transplant student. They were more than a mental health team to them. They were their day ones. They were there before Olivia, before Khoudia, before Phichit, before the true extent of the wackiness – and terribleness – of their dorm mates. They were simply irreplaceable. Yuuri placed their face in their hands and smiled.

“Are you okay?” Victor stroked Yuuri’s back.

“I’m just… so happy.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed. “They make me happy.” Victor nodded. “Luzia has dogs! And a wife! She has a wife!!” Yuuri took a deep breath to try and calm themselves. It wasn’t working.

“Your therapist is gay?” Yuuri vigorously nodded. “That’s great.”

"She's shown me her wedding photos, and they're so cute together!" Yuuri gushed. “They went on honeymoon in Brazil!” Yuuri let out a sound of excitement and pure happiness. Victor could only watch his bonheur be excited. Yuuri calmed down and physically relaxed. They were glad to tell Victor about their mental health team.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri nodded. They sat up and reached out to touch Victor’s face. He leaned in and let his forehead rest on Yuuri’s. “Were you okay when you were in Moscow? Did anyone do anything surly?”

“I was with Khoudia the entire time. Nothing happened to us.”

“Good!” Victor said. He pulled away from Yuuri and kissed their forehead. “You should get to your math class. I’ll walk you.” Yuuri nodded. They gathered their things and walked hand-in-hand out of the library. Yuuri was relieved that Victor didn’t seem to hate their guts. They waited for the elevator. “So, how were you mental health-wise in Moscow?”

“I’m positive I had a manic episode in Moscow. I still might be having one.” Victor nodded.

“What do you need?” Victor asked.

“I don’t think I understand,” Yuuri said. The elevator came, and they got on. Yuuri was glad that it was empty. They didn’t want anyone to overhear their mental health woes. Victor pressed the button to the floor.

“Do you need anything?” Yuuri shook their head. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m here for you.” Yuuri nodded and leaned on Victor. “I don’t expect you to come back to the library to find me since you probably have to go home immediately after.” Yuuri shrugged.

“I’ll come back for you, but I won’t stay long,” Yuuri said.

“What time is your dinner?”

"7pm," Yuuri murmured. “After math, I’ll have just enough time to give you a kiss and a hug.” Victor rolled his eyes. "What?" Yuuri reached up to touch Victor.

"You finally come back, and you leave me so soon," Victor complained. "Well, at least I'll be seeing you tomorrow, too."

“Speaking of seeing each other,” Yuuri said. They were cut off by the elevator opening. Yuuri removed their hand from Victor’s hand. “Are we going to the museum on Friday?”

“Of course,” Victor said. “We still have to do the art history assignments. Even if we’re figure skaters.” Yuuri chuckled. Before they knew it, they were at the door to Yuuri’s math class. “I have to let go now, don’t I?”

“Sadly,” Yuuri murmured. “I’d stay if I could, but I have to take this math class.”

“I know, I know,” Victor said. He rested his forehead against Yuuri’s. A door opened. A short girl with blonde ombre hair came out. She tried not to gawk, but she did. “You should get inside.” Victor stroked Yuuri’s face. “Before I decide to whisk you away from everything.”

“Right now, I think I would prefer it if you whisked me away from everything.” Victor smiled. “Let me get inside.” Victor chuckled and kissed Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri pulled away from Victor – albeit unwillingly – and went inside their classroom to get some education.

#

**(Wednesday, 2 December 2015 –** **7:00pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri had enough time to give Victor a kiss and a hug _and_ have a conversation with him. Victor even walked them home to extend his time with Yuuri. Yuuri was grateful for Victor doing that. He tried to seduce Yuuri tonight and almost talked them out of going to dinner with Olivia. Almost. Yuuri remained strong and didn’t yield to temptation.

Right now, Yuuri was waiting in front of Slows Bar BQ. Olivia hadn’t shown up yet. Their fingers were starting to freeze from the cold. “It was truly December,” Yuuri thought. They looked up and down the streets, trying to see if they could recognize Olivia walking down the street. If her gait hadn’t changed while she was in France, they could probably see her from coming a mile away.

“Hey!” Olivia said as she tapped their shoulder. She was standing right behind them. Yuuri was startled; they didn’t see her coming down the street. Her eyes seemed to shine in this night. She threw her arms around them before they could register that she was hugging them. Yuuri wrapped their arms around her after they processed the hug. They felt their eyes water when they wrapped their arms around her. She pulled away and looked up at them. “Did you miss me?” Yuuri nodded. "Let's go inside! I'm starving. I hope you're in the mood for barbecue."

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't," Yuuri murmured.

“Aren’t you here for me?” She asked with a pout. Yuuri looked down at her. She made that face that always made it hard for them to deny her anything. It made them weak in the knees, and they had to take a deep breath before they would continue. 

“Well, I –” Yuuri cut themselves off and let go of her. "I wouldn't be here if I weren't," Yuuri repeated. Olivia sighed. Then she chuckled. “We should get inside. It’s cold.”

“Right,” she said. She let go of Yuuri and grabbed their hand. They walked inside the restaurant and waited to be seated. "So, how have you been since I last saw you?" She brought a knuckle to her mouth. "I feel like I've asked you before… I probably did when Khoudia made you hang up your phone." Yuuri shrugged. "She seemed to be mad when she found out you were talking to me." She sheepishly chuckled. "Does she hate me that much?"

“Yes,” Yuuri said. "You fill her with a rage that cannot be quelled." Olivia chuckled. "You hurt her." Olivia shrugged. "Can't you feel remorse at all?"

“Is it really my fault that she can’t just get over it?” Yuuri deadpanned. “Look, I don’t want to talk about Khoudia tonight. She’s putting a damper on our date tonight.” Yuuri had two things they had to speak on, and they didn’t know which one they wanted to speak on first. Do they lay down the law and tell Olivia that this isn’t a date? That this is just a simple dinner with an old acquaintance? Or do they bring up that she brought up Khoudia first and that she’s responsible for whatever hurt she’s feeling? Yuuri didn't decide in time because she had already decided to change the topic. "What do you plan on getting?" She asked. 

“I don’t know,” Yuuri murmured. “It’s been a while since I’ve come here.” Olivia leaned on Yuuri and closed her eyes. “Do you still remember the menu?” She shook her head.

“I guess we’ll see when we’re seated.” Yuuri nodded. "I've missed you, you know." 

“If you missed me that much, you wouldn’t have cut off all contact when you decided to leave for France.” Yuuri checked their phone; they had messages from Khoudia, Phichit, and Victor. They decided to start with Phichit’s messages.

> Phichit: Make sure you take a lot of pictures of you and Olivia tonight. And remember to make good decisions!!
> 
> : I'll be sure to make good choices, mon beaux

Then they went to Khoudia’s messages. She, surprisingly, only sent two sentences instead of a script of what she wants Yuuri to say to her.

> Khoudia: Stay safe tonight. You’re in my (scant) prayers.
> 
> : I’ll try.

Then they went to Victor’s messages. They dreaded his the most.

> Victor: I hope your dinner goes well and that you find what you were searching for.
> 
> Victor: And remember what I told you ((sparkling heart emojis))
> 
> : I will, mon bonheur ((sparkling heart emoji))

Yuuri sighed and put their phone away. “Who were you texting?” She asked.

“Phichit,” Yuuri said. “He was telling me to make good decisions tonight.” She smirked. “I don’t know where he got the idea that I would be making _bad_ decisions tonight.” Olivia started to giggle. “Are you going to continue college?”

“That is the plan,” she said. “Ciao Ciao hasn’t told me if he’s taking me back yet. I’m hoping he does.” Yuuri nodded. They remembered what she told them on the Christmas Eve that she left. “I’m glad that I figured out what I want now.” Yuuri nodded. "Your Rostelecom Cup skate was amazing." 

“Thank you,” Yuuri meekly said. Olivia sat up and reached out to grab Yuuri’s face.

“Look at me,” she said as she held their face in her hands. Yuuri looked at her forehead instead of in her eyes.

“Excuse me?” The staring was interrupted by a waitress. “There’s a table waiting for you.” Yuuri removed Olivia’s hands from their face and got up. They gripped her hands because they needed something to grab on to. Yuuri and Olivia followed the waitress and took their seats. They were in the absolute middle of the dining area. She gave them their menus and walked away. They took off their coats and placed them on the back of the chairs. Phichit had picked out Yuuri’s clothes tonight; they decided on dress pants and a dark blue polka-dotted shirt. Phichit also had Yuuri wear a sports jacket with it. It was dressy-casual, and Yuuri wished they had enough sense to pick out their clothes. Olivia opted for dressy-casual, too; she went for a partially pinstriped blouse – the shirt was sectioned off like it was a regular dress shirt at the top, and then it broke off into a pinstriped corset. Once Yuuri sat down, they promptly opened their menu and looked at the first page.

“I hate that she interrupted our moment,” Olivia said.

“It’s not her fault. She’s just doing her job.” Yuuri turned the page. So far, the gumbo and the salad looked appetizing to them. “You can’t fault her for that.”

“I know,” she said. She turned to the second page of her menu. “I just wish that it hadn’t ended so soon.” She turned to the third page. “You still want to go out for drinks after this, right?” Yuuri nodded. “Tonight’s going to be fun, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think.” Olivia damn near dropped her menu. Her mouth was held open in shock. “That isn’t regard to tonight,” Yuuri clarified. “That’s just in general. I don’t think.” Olivia laughed.

“I was about to say,” Olivia said. She started to smile. “Oh! Wait!” She took out her phone and went to the camera app. “Smile!” She beamed. Yuuri begrudgingly smiled and threw up a peace sign. The waitress came back with two glasses of water; Yuuri thanked her graciously. Then they took out their phone and took an off-guard of Olivia. Phichit would probably like that. “Have you figured out what you want?”

“I think I want the jambalaya now. You?”

“For someone who was in the mood for barbecue, you’re not ordering any barbecue,” Olivia pointed out. Then she continued: “I think I want the brisket. I remember it being really good last time I came here.” She licked her lips and looked at Yuuri. “You look so handsome tonight.”

“You look nice, too,” Yuuri said. Olivia smiled and flipped her hair. She looked at her lap and kept smiling. Yuuri decided to take another off-guard of her. “So, how did you run into Phichit on campus?”

"He was in one of the computer labs, and I was trying to see if my login info still worked." She looked up and over at Yuuri. "It didn't, by the way." She chuckled. "Phichit wasn't paying attention to whatever he was supposed to be doing, and he just started talking to me! It was like nothing had changed!" She smiled again. "I had wished that it could be the same for all of us, you know? That we could all pick up where we left off." She sighed. "There was a reason I chose you, you know."

“Chose? Chose when?”

“Well, I’ve chosen you for several things,” she said before she took a sip of water. “But my most penultimate choice was contacting you instead of Khoudia or Camille.”

“Adé.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s Adé. Camille wants to be called Adé now.” Olivia took a sip of water and waited for Yuuri to continue. When she saw that Yuuri had nothing to add, she continued. 

“Right, well, I chose you because you’re easy to talk to.” Yuuri wanted to counter that. According to several people, they weren’t easy to talk to at all. They likened talking to Yuuri to talking to a brick wall. “You would actually try to hear me out rather than…” her voice trailed off and she shrugged. “I just… I just really wanted to talk to you.” She wiped her eyes then reached out to grab Yuuri’s hand. They flinched. “Are you okay?” She asked after she had intertwined her fingers with theirs.

“You’re touching me.”

“I know that,” she said. Yuuri felt their face get warm.

“You’re very audacious,” Yuuri said. She smirked, and she started giving them bedroom eyes. They took deep breaths and remembered that they have a boyfriend to ground them. They didn’t have to give in to temptation; if they’re strong enough to resist Victor, they’re strong enough to resist Olivia. “But you’re not,” a voice told them. They took a deep breath and smiled graciously. They can resist this.

“I guess that happens when you figure out what you want.” Yuuri saw what she meant, but shrugged, nonetheless. “You become more reckless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.” Their waitress came back to take their order. While Olivia was ordering for them, Yuuri became inflamed with a burning question.

Once the waitress left, Yuuri felt that it was as fine a time as ever to spring their question on her. “What did you leave to look for?” Yuuri took a sip of water, knowing full well that it might not be the best thing to be doing.

“I just needed some distance between me and skating and school and us.”

“A lot of distance between us,” Yuuri dryly remarked.

“Yes, a lot of distance between us,” Olivia repeated.

“And it took you three years to figure it all out?” Olivia nodded. “Is thinking all you did?”

“Well, of course, it’s not the only thing I did. There were some hang-ups and layovers and — What are you doing?” Yuuri had let go of Olivia’s hand. They were wiping it on their trousers now.

“My hand got sweaty,” Yuuri said. They placed their hand near hers. She didn’t try to link fingers again.

Olivia nodded and decided to continue talking. "I've met people, and I've slept with people, and all I could think about was how I wished I was home." Yuuri nodded and took a sip of water. “Even when I was engaged, I wished I was home.” Yuuri stopped drinking their water when they heard the word “engaged.”

“You were engaged?” She nodded. “Like, the ‘to be married’ engaged?”

“That is the primary usage of the word ‘engaged,’” she said. “My fiancé was nice enough, I guess, but I couldn’t see myself having a life with him. I tried to make myself love him, but I couldn’t.” She yawned. “Do you want to hear about the girlfriend I had when I was there? Yuuri nodded. They would listen to her talk about her girlfriend despite her swearing that she doesn’t like girls. They wondered if they should bring that up right now but decided against it because that would involve invoking Khoudia, and they were just going to get angry. Right now, they decided to listen. It was the safest of options they had right now. "Her name was Adele, and she was an artist. She was adorable." Yuuri nodded. "She was charming and innocent, and it reminded me so much of Khoudia." Olivia bit her lip and smiled. "When I would look at Adele's face at night, sometimes I would think it was Khoudia, and I would… I said I didn't want to talk about her tonight." She chuckled. 

“There’s something I’m not understanding. Maybe you can shed some light on it for me.” They restrained themselves, but they had to ask. It was a question that had them inflamed.

“Shoot,” Olivia said.

“How do you alternate between being so disinterested in Khoudia’s feelings and yet fawning over her?”

“Hate the sin, love the sinner,” she said.

"That makes no logical sense whatsoever; I hope you know that." Yuuri rolled their eyes. Olivia rolled her eyes, too. "I just don't get your blatant disregard for her feelings – feelings that are important and that can be returned – and then you melt thinking about her."

“I don’t _melt_ thinking about Khoudia,” she scoffed.

“Then what do you call talking about how your ex-girlfriend looks like Khoudia when she sleeps?” She shrugged. “It’s not in anyone’s interest if you can’t sort your feelings out.” Yuuri was going to kick themselves for speaking later, but right now, it’s important. “Khoudia was in love with you – she’s still in love with you actually; she just won’t say it because she hates you now – and you keep disregarding that. Why?”

“It’s simple. She’s not the one I’m after,” Olivia simply said. Yuuri was taken aback. "She knows this, and she knows who I want." Olivia grabbed Yuuri’s hand again. “I keep choosing you every time.” Yuuri felt themselves get warm, and they pulled their hand away. “What happened this time?” Yuuri wiped their hands on their pants. Then they kept doing that. They didn’t think to bring one of their new stim toys with them tonight. They had already done their physical stims and forgot that their toys existed. The waitress came back with their drinks, and that distracted Yuuri long enough for them to stop stimming. Then their phone buzzed. They took out their phone and looked at the text.

> Phichit: What the fuck did you do when you were in Moscow

“Did something happen?” Olivia asked.

“Let me check,” Yuuri said. They bit their lip and wondered what they could say to Phichit.

> : wym
> 
> Phichit: Don’t “wym” me.
> 
> Phichit: What the fuck did you do when you were in Moscow
> 
> : I skated, baby.
> 
> : You saw me skate.
> 
> Phichit: Stop being snarky

“Phichit is mad,” Yuuri said. They locked their phone and looked at Olivia.

Phichit: You know what I'm talking about

“What did you do?” Olivia asked.

> Phichit: What the fuck is this in the closet then?
> 
> Phichit: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Phichit: Hmm?
> 
> Phichit: [has sent attachments]
> 
> Phichit: Hmm??
> 
> Phichit: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Phichit: Hmm???
> 
> Phichit: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> Phichit: HMM???!

“He found the stuff I bought when I was in Moscow,” Yuuri said. They took a sip of their drink. "I thought I placed it far enough in the closet that he wouldn't see it, but I guess not." Olivia started to laugh. "You think this is funny, but he doesn't, and he might shave my head tonight. I'm in big trouble."

“Well, what did you buy?” Olivia asked. Yuuri looked at her. “Surely it wasn’t _too_ bad that he’d shave your beautiful hair.” Yuuri made a face. “So, what did you buy?” Yuuri continued to look at her. “Don’t make me have to drag the answers out of you.”

“It’s bad enough to have him text me several pictures _of_ what I bought.” Olivia chuckled. “I’m kind of afraid to go home now because he’s going to yell at me about what I’ve done.”

"Well, you can come over to where I'm staying, and we can have coffee." Yuuri made a face. Why would she invite them over for coffee at night? “What? Is the thought of having coffee with me abhorrent to you?”

“Well, I don’t really like coffee,” they said. Then they felt it right to continue. “Unless it’s iced coffee and it’s made right. Because then that is a hard maybe.” She chuckled.

“I keep forgetting that you’re not American,” she said as she took a sip of her drink. The waitress came back with their food. “Thank you,” Olivia said to the waitress.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Yuuri asked, mildly affronted. They were well aware of their legal resident status and didn’t need it brought up at every turn.

“You won’t understand it.” Yuuri squinted. They were still confused. What does “not being American” have to do with “coming over for coffee”? The two seemed to be unrelated, but they _had_ to have a causal relationship for Olivia to bring them up. She smiled at them. “Let’s eat!” She said. Yuuri picked up their fork and looked at it dubiously. It had slight hard water stains on it. “Is something wrong?”

“My fork,” they murmured. Olivia took it from them and looked at it.

"I got you," she said. She flagged down their waitress and asked for a glass of hot water. She came back with it, and Olivia let Yuuri’s fork soak. “See? I’ve got you.” She smiled. Yuuri’s phone started ringing. It was Phichit. Yuuri and Olivia looked at Yuuri’s phone. “Do you want to get that?” She laughed.

“If I don’t, I’ll really get it when I eventually get back home.”

“Well, hopefully, we can delay that,” she said with a smirk and a wink. Yuuri picked up their phone and hesitantly put their phone to their ear.

“Hello?” Yuuri meekly said.

“Yuuri Katsuki!” Phichit yelled. Yuuri winced when the sound hit their ear.

“Nope.” Yuuri hung up. They put their phone on airplane mode and put it in their pocket. "I'm going to get it now," they murmured.

“You shouldn’t have hung up on him then.” Olivia started to cut her brisket. “It can’t be _that_ bad what he’s calling you about.”

“Olivia, you don’t understand,” Yuuri said.

“Then _make_ me understand.” She stopped cutting her brisket and looked at them. “What did you buy that has Phichit so incensed?” Yuuri took a deep breath and pursed their lips.

“Okay, so, I was in Moscow, right?” She nodded. Yuuri looked around to see if there was anyone paying attention to them. "And I– Look, I just bought things that Phichit is mad about, and he found them, and he's going to end my life like he's Ciao Ciao." She laughed.

“You literally told me nothing,” she said. “You’re going to have to tell me more.”

“I–I…” Yuuri took a deep breath. "Okay, so you already know how Khoudia thought the suit you picked out for me was ugly, right?" Olivia nodded. "So after we picked out a new suit, we walked around and decided to go in a department store. We decided to go to Levi's first." She nodded. "Everything is all well and good, we're just poking around and then–" Yuuri stopped talking. "Things happened, and Khoudia and I had a back-and-forth, and I ended up buying jeans and six sweaters." Olivia started laughing. "I'm serious! I bought six of the same sweater!" 

“Yuuri, you’re such a dummy,” she said as she laughed.

“And then we went into the Sony Store – I had no clue there were Sony Stores in Moscow, by the way – and I bought a camera.”

“Well, that’s not _too_ bad,” Olivia said. “But that’s kind of dumb, too, because you have an iPhone.”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Yuuri said. “I bought a photography camera. Like, a professional one.” She made a face. “I don’t know much of anything about being a professional photographer.”

“What else did you get?” She asked.

“Then Khoudia and I went into a bookstore.” Olivia nodded. “I got books. Several books…” Yuuri took a deep breath. Olivia prodded her brisket with her knife.

“Were they those books?” Yuuri knit their brow. “Those books. The rope books,” she said. Yuuri was still confused. “With the shrimp tying and frog tying.” They understood now.

“Oh! No, no,” Yuuri said. “I’ve hidden those books. They haven’t seen the light of day in a long time.” Olivia smirked. “I haven’t been in the mood to… look at them for inspiration. I’ve been doing normal people things lately.” Yuuri smirked. "Well, as normal as you get for someone like me." Olivia chuckled. "But I got books. They had cool covers."

Olivia bit her lip. She seemed to have a thought. “I’d ask what they’re about, but you… you don’t know Russian, do you?” Yuuri shook their head. “You –”

“But wait! There’s more!” Yuuri said. They took their fork out of the glass of water and wiped it down. They placed it in their jambalaya. “ _Then_ we went to Mont Blanc,” they said, breathless. “You know I have a perpetual hard-on for art and writing stuff.”

“You do,” she said.

“Well…” Yuuri put some jambalaya on their fork. “It’s Mont Blanc.” They bit their lip and looked wistfully at their beverage. “If you hadn’t noticed the theme… I couldn’t help myself and… I might have paid more than $10 for a pen.” Olivia made a face at them. She seemed to be unamused.

“How much?” She demanded. Yuuri took their phone off of airplane mode and texted her the price. She looked down at her phone and then them in disbelief. “Call Phichit,” she said. Yuuri's lips parted. "You call him right now." They rolled their eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. Call him!”

“Fine, fine,” Yuuri said. They took a breath and went to their phone. They had several _more_ texts from Phichit, and none of them were texts that Yuuri wanted to see from them. It was namely the “your ass is grass when I catch you” text that struck fear into them. Fear and mania. Fear and loathing. Fear and trembling. All things Yuuri felt right now, but the principal emotion was “fear.” They selected Phichit’s name from the recent calls list and took a deep breath. They quickly put in their headphones and took deep breaths to try and ground themselves.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Phichit sternly said. “I do not _appreciate_ you hanging up on me earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, trying to convey their regret and despondency. They took deep breaths and felt themselves get lightheaded. They wanted to focus on their meal, but Phichit demanded their attention. All of it.

“Are you eating right now?”

“I was going to, but not anymore,” they said.

“You know why I’m angry, right?” Phichit said. Yuuri looked at their fingers.

“Yes, Phichit,” Yuuri said.

“When you come home, I want your wallet.” Yuuri looked at their phone in disbelief. They nervously bit their lip and remained silent. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Phichit,” Yuuri murmured. They didn’t know what Phichit exactly wanted with their wallet, but he sounded serious when he said that he wants it. Yuuri wished he could’ve meant that he wants something else – anything else really – but it wasn’t that. Phichit ended the call in a huff, and Yuuri took out their headphones. They put their phone back in their pocket and looked down at their jambalaya.

“Well?” Olivia said. She had been eating for the duration of Yuuri’s phone call.

“He wants my wallet when I get back home,” Yuuri said. They dumped the rice off of their fork and put more rice on it. “I have no clue what he’s going to do with it, though.” Yuuri tried not to let the dread set in and started to take deep breaths to ground themselves.

“We should definitely work to keep you out of the house a bit longer then,” she said. “Coffee is looking better now, isn’t it?”

“I still don’t understand what you mean by ‘coffee,’” they said. She shrugged.

“You’ll understand it soon enough,” Olivia said. She was halfway done with her brisket. “Now, eat your food before it gets colder than what it is.” Yuuri nodded; Olivia had a smile on her face. They liked that.

#

**(Wednesday, 2 December 2015 –** **9:45pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri and Olivia went to Leibniz for drinks. It was a bar 32 minutes away from Slows, but they could use the exercise to work off the itis. Olivia offered to pay for their drinks tonight; she was trying to prevent Yuuri from another round of castigation. During dinner, Yuuri’s mind was fixated on two things: Olivia’s smile and what Phichit wants with their wallet. They’ve missed her smile more than they let on; they’re distressed about what Phichit has in store for them when they get home. Right now, Yuuri was trying to focus on Olivia’s smile. She smiled as she took sips of her Long Island Iced Tea. They had forgotten that she likes those. Yuuri, after Olivia’s goading, decided to get a Cosmopolitan – and they hate cranberry juice. They sipped slowly and kept their eyes on Olivia. They would have a lot to write in their journal about tonight.

“What are you thinking about?” Olivia asked. She grabbed Yuuri’s hand. “If it’s about Phichit, just try and relax. He can’t still be seething.” Yuuri shrugged.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. “Phichit’s like a stable star when it comes to anger.”

“He conducts nuclear fusion?” Olivia asked with a smile. Yuuri chuckled.

“Well, I sure hope that he doesn’t.” Yuuri took a sip of their drink. “What I’m trying to say is that he burns slowly and steadily. He still might be angry when I get home.”

“Well, here’s to hoping that he calms down.” They clinked glasses and drank. Olivia absentmindedly intertwined her fingers with Yuuri’s, relishing the feel of their skin under hers. Yuuri quickly took out their phone and took a picture of their hands. She smiled. “You still do that?” She asked. Taking pictures of their hand holding someone else’s was a remnant of the Jason Era. Jason was hesitant to show them any sort of affection in public or in private, so when Jason held Yuuri’s hand, they would snap a flick of it.

Memorabilia. They wanted to have a memory. They wanted to preserve the look and feel of Jason’s skin against them.

Yuuri nodded. Olivia smiled. “You don’t have to do that anymore,” she said. “I’m here.”

“I know,” Yuuri said. “I see you there.” Olivia took a big sip of her drink and smiled. “You are physically occupying the same space as me in this twilight.”

“Was that part a Nine Inch Nails reference?” Yuuri nodded. “Is it good?”

“The song? Or the drink? Because the song is great. The drink is decent.” Olivia smiled. She took another big sip of her drink and reached up to touch Yuuri’s hair. “What are you doing?”

“Touching your hair, silly,” she said. One of Olivia’s hands was holding theirs; the other one was pushing off their hat and intertwining her fingers in their hair. “Do you want to know how to say ‘to have coffee’ in French?” She asked. Yuuri nodded. They were sure they already knew but wanted Olivia to tell them anyway. She told them, and they pursed their lips.

“That sounds fucking wrong,” Yuuri said. “First of all, you didn’t even say the word ‘coffee.’ Second of all, I might not know what words you just said, but I know that you did not just say ‘to have coffee.’ Third, if you _did_ just say ‘to have coffee,' that must be some regional dialect you've just said it in, and I doubt the Academy of Letters recognizes this." Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Yuuri, you’re so dense at times it literally hurts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is it okay to love you in this trembling night?” She said. She moved in close, not bothering to wait for a response, and kissed them. They were caught off guard, and soon they were well into the throes of the kiss. There were two ways tonight could end, and Yuuri had to catch themselves. They couldn’t do this to Victor. Yuuri pulled away and wiped their mouth. “What?”

“I can’t do this,” Yuuri said.

“What do you mean?”

“I have a boyfriend.” Olivia made a face that Yuuri could only interpret as shock or indignation. She removed her hands from their body and reached for her drink.

“You do _not_ ," she said. "I've been hitting on you all night, and you haven't stopped me."

“…You were hitting on me?” Yuuri asked. They dismissed the question. It wasn't important. "It doesn't matter at this point. The point I am trying to make is that I can't do this to him, and I can’t do this with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

"I don't understand what's so hard to get. If this was another time before now, I might have gone along with it – maybe – but I can't now. I have something good, and I don't want to ruin it all because I'm not in the right state of mind." Yuuri felt like they needed to rinse their mouth out. "I'm doing my best not to hurt him again."

“Again? So this has happened before?”

“No, thank goodness,” Yuuri said. They took a sip of their drink, hoping to sanitize their mouth. They didn’t know if or how they would be able to kiss Victor tomorrow with a defiled mouth. Olivia's interest was piqued now. She wanted to pry, but she wanted to listen more. "But I've hurt him before, and I don't want to do it again."

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” she said. Yuuri felt that they grasped what Olivia was getting at right now. When they looked over at her and her drink, she was done.

“Do not try and interfere with my relationship.” Olivia started to eat the ice out of her glass.

“Who said I was going to?” Yuuri furrowed their brow. Now they were confused. “I know you. Now finish your drink. Let’s go home.”

“What about coffee?” They asked. Olivia rolled her eyes.

“You don’t want coffee,” she said. “I’ll drop you off. Now finish your drink.” Yuuri looked down at their half-drunk Cosmopolitan. They really didn’t want it now, but they had to soldier on. They finished it in three big swigs and looked at their glass. They left Leibniz, and Olivia walked Yuuri back to their apartment in silence. She hugged them goodbye; she walked off before Yuuri could even get their key in the door. They sighed.

When they got inside, they flopped on the sofa – coat, shoes, and all. Phichit was probably in bed. Their anger might’ve tired them out. If that was the case, Yuuri was grateful. They silently tried to kick off their Docs, but they each made a thud when they hit the floor. Yuuri sighed and got up; they put their coat away, but not before they got their phone out. They wanted to talk to Victor.

> : I just came back from dinner.

Yuuri laid back down on the sofa and brought a knee to their chest. They yawned and put their phone near their chest. Then it buzzed.

> Victor: And? How’d it go?
> 
> : It was exhausting, to say the least.
> 
> : Like, it was good at first!! But then it took several weird turns, and I don't know how to interpret it or what that's going to entail for my future interactions with her.
> 
> Victor: ((confused emoji))
> 
> : I don’t get it either tbh.
> 
> : By the way, you should text me your address so I can come and retrieve you tomorrow.
> 
> Victor: Will do

Victor texted Yuuri their address. Yuuri looked up at the ceiling. They were confused about tonight and what tomorrow might bring. The proverbial rocks haven’t been lifted off of their shoulders at all; instead, there were more rocks added to their bundle. They shed one stone and added several others. Yuuri sighed. Despite the nice start, tonight turned out to be a wreck.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C'est la lutte finale  
> Groupons-nous et demain  
> L'Internationale  
> Sera le genre humain.


	47. The Persistence of Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri go on their third date.

#

**(Thursday, 3 December 2015 – 2:22am** **, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Wake up.” A pillow made contact with Yuuri’s face. Phichit was awake now. Yuuri opened their eyes and rubbed them. The pillow made contact with Yuuri’s face again. Yuuri forced themselves up; they rubbed their eyes again. “Give me your wallet.” Yuuri checked their phone. It's 2:24 am. 

“It’s 2:24 in the morning, Phichit. Do we have to do this right now?” Yuuri yawned. Phichit turned on the lights and looked at Yuuri; he was sitting on the arm of the sofa cross-legged. Yuuri was still drunk from their sleep. Phichit was unamused, and his unamusement forced Yuuri from their resting place. They lazily fished their wallet out of their coat pocket. They tossed it to Phichit. It hit Phichit’s chest and slid downward. “Sorry,” Yuuri murmured. Phichit slid off of the arm of the chair and onto the sofa. He opened Yuuri’s wallet and took everything out of it. Phichit started to sift through the contents of Yuuri’s wallet; he took out Yuuri’s debit and credit card, but let Yuuri keep their ID and cash.

“Put this back,” Phichit said and gave Yuuri their ID and cash. Yuuri did as Phichit said and sat on the sofa. They sleepily put their ID and money back in their wallet. Phichit got up and went into the kitchen with Yuuri’s cards; Yuuri followed to see what Phichit was doing. They turned on the sink and let the water run. Phichit went into the freezer and took out the ice tray. They got an old butter container out of the cabinet and started to put ice in the bottom of the container. Phichit put the cards on the ice and ran water over them.

“What are you doing?!” Phichit put more ice on the cards. 

“Stopping you from making more reckless purchases.” Phichit grabbed the top to the butter container and placed it over the container. They put it in the freezer and turned off the kitchen light. “Now go to bed,” Phichit said. He walked out of the kitchen and went back into the room. Yuuri yawned. They sleepily put their wallet back in their coat and grabbed their phone. They started to undress in the living room. They folded their clothes and took them into the room. They hadn’t dared to step in there since they’ve come home.

The room was a mess. The closet door was open wide, and things seemed to spew from its mouth. In the dark, it looked like a monster, and that made Yuuri not want to go further into the room. Phichit was in bed, relaxing peacefully. Yuuri peeked inside the room. “Phichit?” Yuuri whispered. His response was silence. Yuuri set foot inside of the room and felt a wave overtake them. They took another step into the room and decided that they couldn’t do this. They withdrew from the room and sat by the wall in front of the room. They brought their knees to their chest and rested their chin on their knees. They were oh so sleepy right now. Yuuri closed their eyes and took deep breaths. The monster in the closet couldn’t get to them if they remained outside of the room.

So Yuuri remained outside of the room.

#

**(Thursday, 3 December 2015 –** **3:15am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“I told you to get in the bed,” Phichit said as they poked Yuuri in the side with his foot. Yuuri covered their face and rolled into the fetal position. “Get in the bed.”

“I can’t,” Yuuri sleepily said. “There’s a monster in the closet.” Phichit deadpanned.

“There’s no monster in the closet,” Phichit said. He went back into the room and turned on the lights, opened the bedroom door wide, and beckoned Yuuri to stand. He did so and guided Yuuri into the bedroom. They were still anxious about stepping into the room. Phichit tried their best to drag Yuuri into the room. When he got them in the room, he opened the closet door wide. “See? No monster.” Things were still spilling out from its mouth. Yuuri inched towards the door; Phichit looked over at Yuuri. “What now?”

“Close the closet door,” Yuuri murmured. They sat in the corner between the dresser and the wall.

Phichit went to stand in front of Yuuri and squatted down. “Yuuri, what is going on? You’re being irrational right now.” Yuuri covered their face with their hands. "What's going on? Tell me," he coaxed. Phichit reached out to touch Yuuri’s face. "Your behavior's all off, and I'm worried about you." Yuuri reached out to hug Phichit and buried their head in Phichit’s chest, squeezing their eyes tight. He was comfortably soft. “You don’t usually waste money on exuberant purchases.” Phichit squeezed Yuuri tight. “And now you’re scared of the closet. Are you hallucinating still? Tell me, please.” Yuuri shrugged.

"I just know that something is coming out of the closet, and it makes me not want to be in here." Phichit stroked Yuuri’s back and started making cooing sounds to calm them. Phichit began to rock Yuuri in his arms.

“I’ll close the closet door if it’ll make you feel better.” Yuuri nodded. Phichit got up and closed the closet door. They forced the things spilling out from it back into the closet and dusted himself off. “Are you better now?” Yuuri shrugged. Phichit guided Yuuri to their bed. Yuuri sat down on their bed and rubbed their eyes. Phichit went out into the hallway to get Yuuri’s clothes.

“Now go to sleep. You have class tomorrow,” Phichit said. He placed Yuuri’s clothes on the desk and stroked Yuuri’s face. “Go to sleep.” Yuuri pulled down their bedsheets and placed himself between them. They laid down and looked at the ceiling. “Good, now close your eyes.” Yuuri sighed. They still felt like something was coming from the closet, but it wasn’t bothering them as much now. Maybe they could get some sleep before they would have to get up for class.

#

**(Thursday, 3 December 2015 –** **6:23am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri didn’t sleep at all. Instead, they spent their remaining hours cleaning the room. When Yuuri came in last night, it was a mess – partially because of the closet. They decided to let Phichit handle that; Yuuri decided to clean the not-closet area. Phichit didn’t hear them cleaning at all, and Yuuri was surprised by that. The room was looking semi-habitable again.

Yuuri sat in the living room with a cup of tea. They were looking at Lolita. It had a bright cover, and the reviews on the back were glowing. From what they know about the book, they were a bit surprised that Tal’at would even own it, but she did, and now it was in Yuuri’s hands. They slowly read, keeping their phone on hand to look up words that they didn’t understand. Yuuri took a sip of tea and turned the page. For a few moments, Yuuri wondered how Olivia was doing. They were tempted to text her to check in.

> : Hey

Yuuri looked at their message, and they instantaneously regretted it. After what Olivia pulled last night, they didn’t understand why they still wanted to talk to her. Their phone buzzed, and they jumped.

> Olivia: Good morning

They didn’t expect her to respond so soon – or at all – seeing as how they denied her something she wanted. They were thinking about that as they cleaned the bedroom. They were thinking about how these people in their life have these needs and expectations of them and how they couldn’t possibly hope to satisfy any of them. It was too much pressure for them, and they wished that they could be back home. They understood that going back home would simultaneously be more and less stressful with the expectations. In America, they would have to be on their game 24/7 and surpass everyone academically. In Japan, they would have to help around with the _onsen_ and maybe get a job on the side doing art commissions… That’s if they decided to stop skating, that is. When they were cleaning, they genuinely gave thought to the idea of stopping skating while they’re at a high point. Plus, they realized that they wouldn’t have that much time left _to_ skate, so stopping while they were at their proverbial peak didn’t seem all that bad.

Yuuri took a sip of tea. They had a lot on their mind this morning, but right now, they let their mind return to Olivia’s text. What should they say in response to her “good morning”? Yuuri took another sip of tea.

They settled for a “how are you?” because it was simple and non-threatening.

> Olivia: Tired. My sleep was terrible
> 
> : A tragedy.

Yuuri sipped at their jasmine tea. They were almost done. Phichit came from down the hallway. “You’re up already?” Phichit sleepily said. Yuuri nodded. Phichit flopped on the sofa and cuddled up to Yuuri. “Are you mad at me for yelling at you yesterday?” Yuuri shook their head. “You know that I care about you and that sometimes you do these things that concern me.” Yuuri nodded. “I only took your cards to prevent you from doing anything too outlandish like buying a horse or flying to the Czech Republic just to get lost in Prague.” Phichit looked up at Yuuri.

“Where would I even get a horse in Detroit?” Yuuri asked.

“I don’t know. Amazon? You buy a lot of stuff off of Amazon.” Yuuri shrugged.

“Getting lost in Prague sounds about good right now,” Yuuri murmured. After last night and what they’ve thought about today, they could get accustomed to getting lost somewhere where no one knows them and where no one has any expectations for them. They could backpack across Europe, forming temporary relationships with temporary people. Suddenly, they understood why Olivia packed up everything and left to get away from everyone. It’s a stress-reliever with its stresses.

“You’re not going to Prague,” Phichit said as they swatted Yuuri’s leg. “You’re staying with me.”

"But, think about it: We're in Prague together, and we're walking around and taking pictures. I'm using my new camera. People think we're photographers. We don't get stopped so white people can take pictures with the two Asians." Phichit chuckled. “How does that sound?”

“It _sounds_ nice, but I don’t know…” Phichit yawned. “I’d feel more comfortable going somewhere where we spoke the language and is warm. Maybe Havana or Santo Domingo. You could translate for us. Or maybe Trinidad. They speak English in Trinidad, right?” Yuuri nodded. "Wait a minute; we are _not_ going on vacation right now. Stop trying to get me to do things with you." 

“But wouldn’t it be nice to take a vacation together?”

“You have a boyfriend,” Phichit said. Yuuri looked down at him. “Go on vacation with him.”

“I can’t. We’re gay,” Yuuri said. Phichit lightly chuckled.

"You should get ready for your 8am class," Phichit said. Yuuri nodded and finished up their tea. Phichit patted Yuuri’s chest and stopped leaning on them. “I’m going to go back to bed.” Phichit kissed Yuuri’s cheek and went back into their room. Yuuri followed Phichit down the hall and went into the bathroom. They turned on the shower faucet to let the water run and get hot. Then they went back into their room to get their clothes out. They settled for a pair of jeans, a shirt with fleurs-de-lis on it, and a space-themed hoodie.

“I have a date tonight,” Yuuri murmured.

“Oh, another?” Phichit said. He yawned again. Yuuri looked back at him. He was huddled up under his blankets. “I’ll pick out your clothes before I leave.” Yuuri nodded. They folded their clothes and placed them on their bed. “Yuuri, I have a question, though.” Yuuri nodded. “Why did you buy six of the same sweater?”

“I needed them.” Phichit rolled his eyes. Even Yuuri lacked the conviction to convey that they needed six of the same sweater.

“Did you need the Mont Blanc pen, too?” Yuuri nodded. “Okay, you did _not_ need that,” Phichit said. “I’m surprised that you didn’t go ass out and buy a bunch of art supplies.”

“I think I’d need to go to New York for that. There’s this wholesale art supply place in Harlem that you wouldn’t let me go to last time we were there. You should let me go in and bathe in sketchbooks and acrylic paint.”

“No,” Phichit sternly said.

“If Mont Blanc sold plume pens, I would’ve bought plumes, too.”

“No,” Phichit said. “Go take your shower.” Yuuri turned to exit the room and went back into the bathroom. The mirror was starting to get steamy. Yuuri stripped and got in the shower to wash away last night’s shame. They brushed their teeth while they were in there, too. They didn’t have the time to wash their hair, nor did they think it was a good idea to wash their hair in this cold.

When Yuuri stepped out of the shower, Phichit was fast asleep again. They dried off in the bathroom and started to dress when they went back into the room. Olivia had texted.

Olivia: There’s no need for sarcasm, Yuuri Katsuki

Yuuri rolled their eyes.

> : I wasn’t being sarcastic.

Yuuri sat on their bed and checked their phone. It’s 20ºF outside. They sucked their teeth and questioned if it was that necessary to go to class today. “But I still have to leave the house,” they thought. They laid down on their bed and their clothes and looked at the ceiling. They looked over at Phichit, sleeping peacefully. They were envious that they could sleep peacefully without having to be considerate of any monsters in the walls or looming shadows in the corner or constant disembodied screams. At that moment, they hated being neurodivergent, and they hated being alive.

After a bout of self-loathing, they got up and went to get a turtleneck out of the drawer. Yuuri decided to wear that under their shirt. After that, Yuuri decided that it was just best if they left and went to school. They left the apartment, still dreading what might come.

#

**(Thursday, 3 December 2015 –** **11:15am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Professor Faucheux decided to end class early today. Yuuri was grateful; they were reaching the end of their short rope with French for today. They weren’t even sure if their French was even improving anymore. They thought that they might have reached a plateau and that they’d need something big to break it.

Right now, Yuuri was in the library, reading Lolita. Someone plopped down next to them. “Hey!” It's Khoudia. Yuuri nodded in acknowledgment. “So, two things: 1. Phichit is _really_ mad at me. And 2. How’d your dinner with Olivia go last night?” Yuuri sighed and closed their book. Khoudia leaned back on the sofa.

“I'm surprised that you’re actually on campus. Again.” Khoudia giggled. “I know Phichit is mad. He upbraided me last night.”

“No, like, when he called me last night, he was _super_ mad. I think that’s the angriest he’s ever been since I’ve met him.” Yuuri nodded. "He said that he would come for my head if I let the Moscow situation happen again. So, for my sake, please try to chill the fuck out between now and the Grand Prix."

“I’m trying, Khoudia,” Yuuri murmured. “I’m really trying.”

“I believe you.” She kissed their cheek. “So how was dinner with Olivia last night?” Yuuri shrugged. "Come on; you have to know. Give me a summary. I want deets.” Yuuri looked at her and squinted. "Yeah, that sounded weird coming from me, too. I solemnly swear never to say that again." 

“Good,” Yuuri said. “And I don’t know, like… Dinner was kind of going well – at least, I _thought_ it was going well. Then we went out for drinks, and she's openly propositioned me, and now I'm confused."

“Proposition how?” Khoudia took out her phone and started to swipe back and forth between her two screens.

“Like…” Yuuri thought of how they could explain it to her. Then they decided to be forward about it. "She wanted sex." Khoudia slightly tilted her head to one side and squinted. "Apparently, she was hitting on me the entire night, and I agreed to ‘coffee.'"

“Did she really use ‘coffee’ as a euphemism for fornicating?” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Disgusting. Why is she trying to sully coffee for everyone?” She stopped swiping between the screens. “What else did she do?”

“She kissed me.” Khoudia put her phone away and put her head in her hands. “I know, right?”

“You can never see her again,” she said. “Like, ever. Don’t agree to go out to dinner with her. Don’t take her up on her offer to see a movie. Don’t invite her out to the bar. Cut her off like a foot with gangrene. Shoot her down like she’s a rabid dog.”

“But–”

“No ‘buts’ about it. Stop talking to her.” Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s hand and stroked it. "She's no good, and she knows this. She is honestly one of the worst human beings that I could ever have the misfortune of encountering." 

“Are you saying that because you _hate_ her or because you _love_ her?” Khoudia looked offended that Yuuri would even suggest that. “It’s an honest question.”

“Yuuri, you don't say things like ‘I hate so-and-so's guts' and ‘this person is a terrible human being, and they need to be set on fire' because you're in love with them." Khoudia snorted. The only feeling that she was trying to convey was contempt.

“Well, _you_ do,” they said with equal amounts of derision.

“Yuuri, I am not in love with Olivia.” Yuuri shrugged. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Not one bit,” they said. Khoudia rolled her eyes.

"I don't know what I could say that would convince you otherwise." Khoudia sighed. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with this conversation. Yuuri noticed that that’s how discussions about Olivia or Khoudia _involving_ Khoudia or Olivia end up – going nowhere. “Do you want to hunt down Phichit and get a hot chocolate?”

“I think he’s in his eastern religions class right now.”

“That class meets twice a week?” Khoudia asked. “I thought that class was on Tuesdays.” Yuuri shrugged. “Text him and see.” Yuuri lazily took out their phone.

> : What class are you in rn?
> 
> Phichit: Chemistry. It’s a double session. Plus, I’m planning on getting tutoring after.
> 
> : Whoops.
> 
> : Wait, why are you on your phone? Pay attention.

“So?”

“He’s in chemistry. It’s a double session.”

“So, I guess it’s just us then.” Khoudia got up and zipped up her coat. Yuuri had registered that she was wearing her coat, but they didn’t notice it on her until she started to pull at it.

“So, what brings you to the campus today?” Yuuri asked. They started to put their arms in the sleeves of their coat. “What did your sisters do now?”

“Can’t I just come to class because I want to learn?” Yuuri shrugged. “Wow. So _that’s_ how you think of me. I can’t be passionate about education according to you.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Yuuri said. “I just shrugged because I don’t have a complete idea of your mindset regarding… What class do you have today?”

"I don't know. Some class," Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at her with a deadpan expression.

“And you’re here for class.” Yuuri rolled their eyes.

“Shut up. I’m here to learn. I just don’t remember what I’ve learned so far.”

“What kind of dissociation…?” Yuuri said. Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Khoudia, you’re something else sometimes.” She shrugged. They started to exit the library when Yuuri encountered their art history professor.

“Remember what I told you yesterday, Mr. Katsuki,” she said as she passed by. Yuuri nodded in acknowledgment of her statement. They held Khoudia’s hand so she wouldn’t say anything outlandish in front of her. Yuuri looked back at their professor and waited for her to enter the library. They let go of Khoudia’s hand.

“Why she look like she stepped out of Hocus Pocus?” Khoudia asked. She seemed like she was bursting at the seams to say that. “What the fuck is her stringy ass hair? And her clothes? And her makeup? Her family must not love her. Her friends were never real with her for letting her leave the house like that.” Yuuri started to laugh. They pressed the down button and wiped their eyes. “I’m being serious. They don’t love her.” The elevator came, and they got on. “All I’m saying is that she needs to learn how to love herself.”

“I get what you’re saying, but come on.” The elevator stopped on the second floor. No one got on.

“It’s true!” Khoudia leaned on Yuuri. "My sisters may hate me, but they love me enough not to let me leave the house looking raggedy… Except for Adeola. She does.” They got off of the elevator and exited the campus. They walked out of the building and to the crosswalk. “So, Phichit told me that you have a date with Victor.” She playfully bumped them. “What are y’all doing?”

“We’re going to dinner.”

“And?” She says, winking.

“I don’t know. We’re probably going to talk.”

“And?” She says. Yuuri started to laugh. “Are you going to get… sausage?” Yuuri laughed harder. Khoudia was in stitches. “What restaurant are y’all going to?”

"This Cajun restaurant. I had a cake from there before." The light changed, and they walked briskly. "The cake was delicious! We should get a cake from there!" Khoudia lightly giggled. Unlike her regular laugh, her giggle was sweet and soft and didn’t strike fear into those around her.

“What’s the food like?”

“There’s a lot of seafood if I remember correctly,” Yuuri said.

“Oh, never mind. I can’t eat it.” She shrugged and sheepishly chuckled. “Allah likes to play these games where he dangles something so nice in front of my face – so nice – and then he snatches it away from me.” She made a face, and then she chuckled. “Actually, I just described _dunya_ and the workings of Shaitan. Ignore me.”

“What is _dunya_?”

“Etymologically speaking, it means ‘what is brought near.’ It mainly talks about the temporal rather than the hereafter – that’s _akhirah_.” Yuuri nodded. “ _Dunya_ is a test; it is to be overcome rather than succumbed to.” Yuuri opened the door to the café for themselves. “I don’t remember all of the specifics of _dunya_ and the theological significance of it, but I remember that being the main reason I decided not to come out when I was younger.” Yuuri placed their bags at a table and went to join Khoudia in line.

“That’s… a curious reason not to come out. Do you mind explaining further?”

“Sexuality is part of _dunya_. By focusing on _akhirah_ and being a good Muslim, I can get closer to Allah and hopefully shed myself of the aspects of _dunya_ that are part of me.” Yuuri nodded. “I don’t think it worked very well. I am a very _dunya_ -minded person nowadays.”

“Did it make you happy? Denying yourself, I mean.”

“No. I was sad all the time. I tried to make myself normal, but nothing I did worked.” Khoudia pursed her lips. “I don’t know what made me stop trying, but I’m happier for that. I think.” She shrugged.

"We're humans; we are meant to experience the full brunt of human emotions no matter how it pains us," Yuuri said. “Denying yourself is a surefire way to ensure that you’re unhappy.” Yuuri patted Khoudia’s head and let their hand rest there. “It’s okay to put yourself before a dogma.”

“Why are you saying this?” They moved up the line.

“I want to see you happy,” Yuuri said. "It pains me to think that there might be a point where you slip back into that self-loathing, and I want to be there to make it go away. But I can't because that's something you need to handle on your own. I can't take away the pain, but I can give you the support you need to do it yourself."

“When did you become so judicious?” Khoudia asked.

Yuuri shrugged and said, “Somewhere between falling in love with Jason and meeting Victor.”

“So, you loved that guy?” Yuuri nodded. They moved up the line again.

“It wasn’t returned, obviously,” Yuuri said. “You kind of get used to feelings not being returned after a while.” Khoudia nodded. “But this isn’t about me. This is about _you_. Don’t do things that you know will make you unhappy only because you’re being promised some immaterial afterlife. Thich Nhat Hanh said, ‘If you abandon the present moment, you cannot live the moments of your daily life deeply.’ Your life is now.” Yuuri placed their hand on Khoudia’s shoulder. They were next.

“I’ll pay for you,” Khoudia said. “That was really astute. Thank you for that, Yuuri.”

“No, thank _you_ , Khoudia.” They moved up the line, and they ordered. Khoudia, keeping her word, paid for their hot chocolates. They returned to their bags and sat.

“Oh, oh! I remember what class I was in!” She chirped. She reached out to grab Yuuri’s forearm. “I was in audio production. We learned about… I don’t fucking know. Audio production.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “I’m trying, okay?”

“I know you’re trying,” Yuuri said. “So, how does it feel to know that we’ll be in France next week?”

“I am simultaneously anxious and excited.” She took the cap off of her hot chocolate and started to blow. “We’re going to be with the crème de la crème of the skating world. It’s amazing. We can _not_ fuck this up.” Yuuri nodded. “Hey,” she said, smiling.

“What?”

“Can you introduce me to Victor at the Grand Prix?” She grinned. Yuuri had a deadpan expression on their face. “I feel like I should have the opportunity to meet your baby.”

“I’ll think about it,” Yuuri said.

“I’ll have to see him _eventually_ ,” Khoudia slurred. “I just want to look at him. Size him up, you know?”

“I know what you’re saying, but Phichit already did that.” Khoudia nodded. “He likes him. He wants to sit down and have tea with him.”

“I want to meet him, too, though.”

“Are you going to ask for an autograph?” Yuuri asked.

“Well, maybe!” She looked down at her hot chocolate and briefly debated on putting the top on it. “I might even ask for a selfie. I haven’t figured out what I want when I see him yet.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “But I will most definitely size him up and give you my honest opinion about him.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of sizing him up, to be honest,” Yuuri said. “I think you’re too small to do that.”

“Oh shut _up_ ,” Khoudia said. “I might be small, but I can pick out a fuckboy like that!” She snapped her fingers.

“I believe you,” Yuuri said with a chuckle. “You do have a knack for telling guys about themselves.”

“Let your friend meet your boyfriend,” the blue-haired woman behind them said. “Friends often pick up on things that you ignore.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am,” Yuuri sheepishly said. They smiled at her.

"It's no problem. I hate seeing kids make stupid mistakes." The blue-haired woman returned to her coffee. Khoudia smiled.

“So it’s settled! I’m meeting your baby!” She put the cap on her hot chocolate and brought it to her lips. She made a face. It must have scorched her lips. “I promise I won’t embarrass you or anything like that or spill any tea on you.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “I’m so excited!! I get to meet your baby!” Khoudia was giddy. Yuuri, despite the dread in their chest regarding the situation and the Grand Prix, was a bit giddy, too.

#

**(Thursday, 3 December 2015 – 7:00pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was waiting for Victor outside of his apartment door. They were hesitating to knock on his door. They wanted to give Victor enough time to get dressed and mentally prepare himself for tonight. Yuuri was leaning against the door. After a minute or so, it opened. Yuuri stumbled and turned around.

“Hello,” he said with a beaming smile. “Have you been waiting long?”

“I don’t think so,” Yuuri said. “I was trying to give you enough time to get ready and get yourself in the zone for tonight.”

“Why would I need to be ‘in the zone’ for tonight?” Victor asked. Yuuri didn’t have an answer for him. “Come in. I’m almost ready.” Yuuri followed Victor inside the apartment and sat on the sofa. Victor’s shirt was partially unbuttoned. Yuuri had to remind himself to breathe. They were apprehensive about tonight, and they were also horrendously thirsty. “Do you want to button my shirt?” Yuuri looked at Victor. “Come here.” Yuuri got up and stood in front of him. They started to meditate on The Hymn of Universal Love as they slowly buttoned Victor’s shirt. Victor grabbed their hand when they reached the penultimate button.

“Do not do that,” Yuuri said. “You’re distracting me enough.”

“I’m glad I distract you.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and smiled. They kissed Victor and finished buttoning his shirt.

“There you go,” Yuuri said. They patted Victor’s shoulders and passed him his sports jacket. Victor put it on and kissed Yuuri. Victor bent down to put on his shoes, and Yuuri leaned on the arm of the sofa. “How was your day? I didn’t see you at all earlier.”

“It was fine. I missed your presence earlier, though,” he said.

“Khoudia got to me before you and asked if I wanted to get a hot chocolate with her.” Victor nodded and brushed something small off of his trousers. “So I might have missed you. I’m sorry.”

"It's fine. You're here right now, and I'm glad." Victor grabbed his coat and put it on. "Ready to go?"

“Do you have your keys?” Victor nodded. They left Victor’s apartment and walked down the stairs. When they hit the front door, Yuuri took out their gloves and then their phone. Yuuri directed Victor to the bus stop, and they waited. 

“So, how is Khoudia?” Yuuri was snapped out of their almost trance when they heard that.

“She’s fine,” Yuuri said. “We talked about the Grand Prix. She’s beyond excited.”

“Are you?”

“I think I will be once I get past the anxiety surrounding it.” Yuuri leaned against the bus sign.

“What’s making you anxious about it?” Victor asked. Yuuri sucked their teeth and shrugged. “It’s going to be fine.” He grabbed Yuuri’s hand. "You're going to skate, and you're going to do great. I believe in you." Yuuri sighed. Then they smiled.

“You’re saying that as my boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “If I was saying this as a skater, I think I would still tell you that you’re going to do great.” Victor placed his lips against Yuuri’s forehead.

“You _think_ ,” Yuuri said.

“Gross!” Someone yelled. Victor and Yuuri looked over to where they heard the voice come from. Yuuri threw their arm around Victor and moved closer to him as a habit. They half-expected Victor to pull away from them, but Victor threw his arms around Yuuri, too. In retrospect, in Yuuri’s mind, if they were being called gross because they were with a particular person, they probably shouldn’t move closer _to_ the person. The person who yelled at them kept walking, reeling in disgust.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured.

“Why are you sorry?” Victor asked. He stroked Yuuri’s hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t with me.” Victor shrugged and kissed Yuuri’s forehead.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s worse in Russia,” Victor said. “If we were there, we would’ve gotten more than ‘gross.’” The bus came. “So don’t worry about it. We have a dinner to go to.” Yuuri smiled despite their fear over what happened. 

After thirty minutes or so, they got off of the bus and walked towards Fishbone’s. They were seated promptly and looked at their menus. “So how’d your dinner go last night?” Victor asked. Yuuri was stunned by his question. They internally questioned why they were stunned; of course, Victor would ask how it went – it's Victor. 

“It went fine,” Yuuri said, their voice crackled. Victor looked up from his menu and at Yuuri. There was silence between them.

When Victor decided to say something, he hit Yuuri with, “Why are you lying?” Yuuri looked at Victor and returned their attention to their menu.

“I’m not lying,” Yuuri said. They kept their gaze downward.

“Yes, you are.” Yuuri looked back up from their menu. “What happened at dinner?” Yuuri remained silent. “I’ll go to the bathroom and give you time to think.” Victor got up and went to find the bathroom. Yuuri exhaled and put their head in their hands. How are they going to tell Victor about last night? They started to bounce their leg and look at their menu. They tried to focus on what to get while trying to piece together what they wanted to admit and what to omit. So far, they wanted to eliminate the entire night. Their phone buzzed.

> Ketty: Are you in Fishbone’s right now?
> 
> : Yeah
> 
> Ketty: Okay, then my eyes aren’t deceiving me.

Yuuri squinted and looked at their phone. They presumed that – from her last text – that she must be somewhere nearby. Ketevan walked over to Yuuri’s table. “Hey!” She said. “Long time no see! How have you been since I gave you the demo?”

“I’ve been fine,” Yuuri said.

“Are you still skating?” Yuuri nodded. “That’s good to hear.” She leaned her hip against the table. “How’s Phichit? Is he still a poli sci major?” Yuuri nodded. “That’s good. I would’ve asked sooner, but you two are hard to get a hold of for some reason.” Yuuri checked their phone. They didn’t have any new texts from Ketevan.

“You haven’t texted me, though,” Yuuri said.

“I figured I’d have a better chance of getting a response from Phichit, so I usually text him." Yuuri nodded.

“So, what brings you to Fishbone’s?”

“I’m just here with a few friends. They were craving Cajun food tonight.” Yuuri nodded. “Who was that guy you’re with?” Out of the corner of Yuuri’s eye, they saw Victor come back from the bathroom.

“Sorry if my hands are still wet, _солнышко_. The hand dryer broke when I was using it." Ketevan looked at Victor, and Victor looked at her. “Yuuri, who’s this?” He asked softly and reached out to touch Yuuri’s hand.

“Victor, this is Ketevan. She’s a conservatory student at Wayne.” He nodded. “Ketty, this is my boyfriend, Victor.” Yuuri felt their face get warm.

“I see,” she said. “Well, it was nice seeing you tonight. I’ll text you!” Ketevan said and walked back to her seat. Yuuri started to run their fingernail against the hemming of the tablecloth.

“She seems nice,” Victor said. “Have you known her long?” Yuuri shrugged. They didn’t know if ‘three years’ would be considered to be ‘long.’ They’ve known Khoudia for four years, and, in Yuuri’s mind, it doesn’t feel like it’s been long at all. “Have you figured out what you want to tell me about last night?”

“No, Ketty’s arrival distracted me from gathering my thoughts.” Yuuri stopped playing with the hem. “But the dinner was kind of nice,” Yuuri said.

“Kind of?” Yuuri nodded. “What happened that made it not nice?” Yuuri bit their lip and looked at Victor’s hand over theirs. The sensation was conflicting for them. They wanted Victor’s hand there, but they didn’t think they could bear having his hand there.

“She hit on me last night.” Victor nodded.

“And? What did you do?”

“I told her that I have a boyfriend. She didn’t believe me.” Victor nodded again. He seemed to be waiting for more.

“Was that so difficult?”

“Immensely,” Yuuri said. “I feel terrible about it.” They kept their gaze towards their menu. They settled for jambalaya despite their anxiety around losing the novelty of having jambalaya.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Victor said. His voice was soft. “So, where did you go for dinner?”

“This barbeque place not too far from here.” Victor nodded. “Can we change the topic? Thinking about Olivia makes me uncomfortable.”

“I just have one thing to say,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. “You don’t ever have to see her again.”

“Thank you for telling me that.” Yuuri smiled. The waitress came to take their order. They ordered, and the waitress took their menus. Yuuri started to look at their fingers. They had a burning question to ask Victor, and they felt kind of sorry for having to ask it. 

“Did something happen?”

“Kind of,” Yuuri murmured. “I’m just wondering when our anniversary is.” Yuuri looked up at Victor. His face was blank.

“I… don’t know,” Victor admitted. “When did we go on our first date?”

“November 6.”

“That’s our anniversary now.” Yuuri nodded. Victor smiled. “What got you thinking about that?” He asked.

“Well, I was thinking about how couples usually have anniversaries and stuff. So I wondered when ours is.” Victor smiled and ran his fingers over Yuuri’s knuckles. Yuuri felt their face get hot. “It’s nice.”

“What’s nice?”

“That we have an anniversary.” Yuuri started to play with the hem of the tablecloth. Then an unwelcome thought came to their mind: Would they even have anniversaries with Victor? They were highly welcome to the idea of having future anniversaries with Victor, but that’s only if Victor wanted to be with them. If Victor didn’t want that as much as Yuuri, then anniversaries would mean nothing. And Yuuri wanted this.

“You look stressed, baby,” Victor said. Yuuri felt their face get warm.

“You called me ‘baby,’” they gushed.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my boyfriend.” Victor put pressure on Yuuri’s hand. “You still look stressed. Something on your mind?”

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?” Yuuri shrugged. "Come on; you know what you were thinking about." 

"Fine, I was thinking about how I don't like sloths." Victor looked at Yuuri with a blank expression. “I was also thinking about how time is an abstract concept that all living things pretend to understand.” Victor just kept looking at Yuuri. “What?”

“Is this what you usually think about?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think about flamingos. Flamingos are cool.” The waitress came with their food. Yuuri looked at their fork; it seemed fine.

“Your brain is a weird place, isn’t it?” Yuuri nodded. “What do you think about flamingos?”

"I think about how there are four types of flamingos in the Americas." Victor nodded. "They're pretty cool birds. Their eyes scare me, but they're pretty cool." Yuuri put their fork in their jambalaya. “Did you know that American flamingos can drink near-boiling water?”

“I did not,” Victor said.

“Well, now you do!” Victor took a bite of Yuuri’s jambalaya. They looked at him. “Why would you do that? You have food.”

“I wanted to know how it tastes.” Victor went in for another forkful. “It tastes great. I think you’ll enjoy it.” Yuuri and Victor smiled. Yuuri took a forkful of jambalaya. It was spicy, and they loved it. “So, what else do you think about?”

“I still want to touch a whale,” Yuuri said as they took another forkful.

“I will find an aquarium where they have whales so we can go and touch one,” Victor said. Yuuri grinned. Victor took out his phone. “Pose for me.” Yuuri smiled and threw up a peace sign.

“Is that for Chris?” Victor nodded. Yuuri took out their phone and snapped two flicks of Victor when he was looking at his phone.

“Did you take a picture of me?” Yuuri nodded. “Are you going to send it to Phichit?”

“No,” Yuuri simply said. Victor smirked.

"What are you going to do with it?" Victor started to eat his food.

“Look at it. Maybe draw it.” Victor smirked again. “What?”

“All you do is look and draw?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Sometimes.” Yuuri placed their fork in their jambalaya. "Sometimes I think about how perfect you look in the photo, and I wonder how I got so lucky." 

“I think I’m the lucky one here,” Victor said as he took a sip of his beverage.

“No, you don’t understand,” Yuuri said. "The Jupiter Conservator of the skating world is right here with me. He is my boyfriend. We go to class together; we do stuff together. I cannot believe that this is happening. It has been several months, and I still cannot believe that this is happening." Yuuri took a sip of their drink. “Like, come _on_ , my guy.”

“…Jupiter Conservator?” Victor slowly questioned. Yuuri blushed. They had never gushed about Victor _to_ Victor before.

“That’s what Khoudia calls you. It's rubbed off."

“Jupiter Conservator,” Victor repeated. “What else has Khoudia called me?”

“I know she’s called you ‘The Most Merciful,’ but she’s said a lot more.”

“The Most Merciful?” Yuuri nodded. “Those are… interesting.” Victor wound the fettuccine in his Pasta Orleans around his fork. “Where did she get ‘The Most Merciful’ from?”

“I think it’s a title of Allah?” Yuuri wasn’t sure. “I think her logic is that you’re god- _like_ , so she was getting at that? I think?" Yuuri shrugged. “Khoudia’s an experience. I don't know what she thinks when she does things half the time." Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

Mari: Okay, I’ve figured out what I want to say.

“Who is it?”

“It’s my sister.” Victor tried to get a look at Yuuri’s screen.

“Reply to her.” Victor ate a piece of shrimp from his dish.

> : Oh? And?
> 
> Mari: You are really, really, REALLY not going to like it.
> 
> Mari: But first, what are you doing?
> 
> : I’m on a date.

“Does your sister know about me?” Yuuri nodded and put their phone on the table. “What did you tell her?” Yuuri looked up at the ceiling from beneath their lashes.

"I don't remember," Yuuri said. "I think I told her that– Actually, I couldn't tell you that." Victor's brows raised. 

“Now I _have_ to know what you told her.”

“No, it’s supposed to be a surprise,” Yuuri said.

“What kind of surprise?”

"I can't tell you, or else it's not a surprise." Victor rolled his eyes. "I haven't even finished it yet. It's so big." Victor wrapped more fettuccine around the prongs of his fork.

“What’s the surprise? Any special occasion?” Victor winked. Yuuri blushed and smiled goofily.

“When I finish it, I’ll let you know.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Mari: Ooh a date
> 
> Mari: What happened with that guy you wanted to bring home?

“Your sister still?” Yuuri nodded. “What is she talking about?”

“She’s surprised that I’m on a date.” Victor smiled.

“Are people usually surprised when you go on dates?” Victor asked.

“As of recently, yes,” Yuuri said. “But also my sister isn’t used to me dating. She’ll get used to it eventually.” Victor nodded and smiled. “What do you want to do after we eat?”

“What do people usually do after dinner?”

“Well, Olivia and I went out for drinks last night. Do you want to go out for drinks?” Yuuri asked. Victor smiled. “We don’t have to do that, you know. We could… I don’t know…”

“I think I’d like to get a drink with you.” Victor smiled. “Actually, I’m _certain_ that I’d like to get a drink with you.” Victor started to stroke Yuuri’s knuckles again. They weren’t sure that they could get through the night.

#

**(Thursday, 3 December 2015 – 11:59pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri came in silently, being mindful of every sound they make. Phichit was on the sofa, talking to Khoudia. “They just got home,” Phichit told her. He put her on speaker.

“It’s late,” she observed.

“I know,” Yuuri said. They plopped next to Phichit. “How was your night, Phichit?”

"It was fine. I caught up on my work, but I got bored without you here, so I called Khoudia.”

“This is all well and good, but…” Khoudia said. “There is one important question that no one is asking here.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and mentally prepared themselves for what she could ask them. Knowing her, it would either be invasive or something that wasn’t a critical question at all. “Did you give neck?” Oh, it was both this time.

“No,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t believe you. Phichit, smell their breath.”

Yuuri looked over at Phichit. “You better not,” Yuuri said. Phichit had a pained, confused look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri, but I have to,” Phichit said. “Open your mouth.” Yuuri rolled their eyes, and begrudgingly opened their mouth. Phichit sniffed. “It smells like peppers, alcohol, and soda.”

“Yeah, because all Victor and I did was go out for drinks after our dinner,” Yuuri curtly said. "I'm disappointed that both of you think I am so much of a hoe that I would give head on the third date."

“You’ve fucked on the first and second,” Khoudia pointed out. Yuuri rolled their eyes. “So apparently you _are_ that much of a hoe, and you _would_ give head on the third date.” Khoudia laughed. “I make my conclusions based on the evidence provided, and, based on _this_ evidence, you're a hoe, and you suck dick." 

“I learned from the best,” Yuuri said.

“I know, right?” Khoudia said. Something – presumably her braids – hit the microphone on the phone. “I’m the top hoe here, and don’t y’all forget it.”

"Trust us; we won't forget," Phichit said. “You won’t let us forget.” Phichit yawned. “I think I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Okay,” Khoudia said.

“Make sure Aida and Yande are asleep before you lay down,” Phichit said.

“They already are.” Khoudia flopped on something. “I don’t know how they slept through my screaming. These kids are amazing. I love them so much.”

“And we love you,” Yuuri said. “Goodnight, Khoudia.” Phichit ended the call. He yawned. “You should get to bed. You have class tomorrow.”

“You should get to bed, too. You can tell me about your date tomorrow.” Yuuri nodded. They pulled off their sweater and started to unbutton their shirt. “Hey, at least fold your sweater,” Phichit said as he got up to fold Yuuri’s sweater. Yuuri shrugged. Phichit finished folding the sweater and placed it on the arm of the chair. Yuuri yawned and finished unbuttoning their shirt. “Your hickeys are healing.” Phichit yawned and stretched. Yuuri got up to pull off their pants. They yawned and lazily folded their pants. “Oh my god, give me your pants. You’re a mess. Just go to bed.” Yuuri pulled off their socks and gave them to Phichit.

Yuuri grabbed their phone and staggered into the room. They quickly shot Victor a text to let him know that they’re home and in one piece. Victor had returned their text with a selfie of himself, cuddled up with a pillow, and enveloped in a soft blanket. Yuuri returned his text with a blurry selfie.

Then they remembered that they had to text Mari when they got home, too.

> : I’m home now

Yuuri sent the same selfie they sent to Victor to Mari.

> Mari: I feel like this selfie means something
> 
> Mari: Have you started doing postmodern art?
> 
> : My entire life is a piece of postmodern art.
> 
> Mari: Nice, nice. So anyway about that news
> 
> : Okay.
> 
> Mari: Vicchan
> 
> : Okay?

Mari sent a lone sentence fragment telling Yuuri about Vicchan and, in combination with the alcohol, they felt like they were falling off of a Ferris wheel. They weren’t sure if they were reading that text right because they saw double. If they were reading this wrong, they would respond in the morning and ask their sister to explain her cruel joke. And, if they were reading this correctly, they genuinely thought that their sister was an awful human being. Not Olivia levels of horrendous human being, but an appalling human being nonetheless.

#


	48. Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's in crisis mode and they did something dubious.

#

**(Friday, 4 December 2015 – 6:24am** **, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

It’s settled. Mari is an awful human being. Yuuri never wanted to talk to her again. They were hurt by how long she waited to tell them and destroyed by the demise of their beloved companion. They woke up at 3am, unsettled by the news. Since then, they’ve read and reread the text. With every time they read it, they would feel more and more hurt. They didn’t know why they were torturing themselves like this; they got the meaning of the text the second time around. Nevertheless, they kept rereading it, hoping to find a different meaning in it with every read.

Phichit was still asleep, and Yuuri didn’t have the heart to wake him. Khoudia was – without a doubt – asleep still, too. Adé was probably asleep, too. So Yuuri was alone in their anguish. They were in the living room, curled up into the corner of the sofa. They weren’t sure if they were emotionally capable of going to ballet this morning or going out with Victor this afternoon. Yuuri yawned and buried their face in the space between the arm of the chair and the back cushion. They let the tears fall. They sobbed lightly and silently, keeping in mind that Phichit was in the next room. They didn't want to wake him and have to express the pain that they’re in. Not when they’ve had so little time to process it all.

Yuuri shivered from the draft that was coming from under the door. They didn’t put on any pajamas last night because the alcohol was keeping them warm, and they didn’t think to get a blanket or put on anything when they got up. The draft was still there, and Yuuri was still balled up in the corner of the sofa. They shivered but didn't make any moves to change the situation. If this draft could kill them, they would let it do it gladly. Mari’s news, in combination with several other things they’ve been trying to keep at bay, made them want to die.

#

 **(Friday, 4 December 2015 –** **6:29pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri laid on the sofa, still cold but less so. Phichit had brought them a set of pajamas to put on before he left. He didn’t ask why he was on the sofa and why he didn’t put on any pajamas. Instead, he just gave the pajamas and a blanket to Yuuri and continued about getting ready for class.

So Yuuri was on the sofa, wrapped in the blanket, and listening to The Downward Spiral on repeat. Right now, Yuuri only paid attention to two things: 1) the screams of agony in the song and 2) the various voices they were hearing. They were taking very well-aimed jabs at them and who they are as a person. They weren’t helping their feelings of depression at all. One particular voice scared them; it sounded like their maternal grandfather, and he wasn't being very kind. It's not like he ever was, but the voice that sounded like their grandfather had very graphic ideas on what he could do on the sixth-floor window.

Yuuri then started to think about Eduvigis. They felt awful about missing their lesson today. They had emailed Eduvigis about missing class and had apologized several times in the email, but they knew that wouldn’t be enough for her. Yuuri rightfully suspected that she would have a fit. Eduvigis was diligent and very aware of the changes in her students. She's like a mother hen, and Yuuri loved that about Eduvigis. Mama Eduvigis.

The draft from earlier was still there, and Yuuri had only moved from their space once – and that was to put on their pajamas and get under the blanket. They were still balled up in the corner of the sofa, the blanket over their head. Yuuri only knew about the draft because one of their feet was grazing the floor.

Yuuri didn’t go to the museum today either. Victor had turned up at the apartment to check in on them, but Yuuri turned him away. He didn't pry, and he didn't complain – as much as he'd like to. Yuuri realized that they would have to apologize and make atonements once they’re in a better place. “That’s if Victor wants to see me again after this, that is,” they thought. They brought their free foot up onto the sofa and tucked it under their thigh. Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Mari: Hey, young one, how are you?

Yuuri looked at their phone through swollen eyes. Yuuri wasn’t crying when Victor dropped by, but they’ve been crying since he’s left. Their hands were shaking, and they couldn’t get their thumbs to cooperate. So they tried the text-to-speech option. “I,” they paused, “am a wreck.” Their iPhone got all of that, and they sent it to Mari.

> Mari: I figured that would happen. That’s why I kept putting it off.

“You should have told me sooner,” they murmured as they tried to breathe. Then Yuuri hit the arrow. As soon as they said that, Yuuri saw the ellipses come and go.

> Mari: I didn’t know how you’d react. Plus, with your skating, I figured that it would be best to wait until you were done.

“I am not done,” Yuuri said. "The Grand Prix is next week, and I am skating, and you decided to drop this bombshell right before I'm going to France." They sent the message and wiped their eyes; they were puffy and raw. Yuuri heard the familiar jingle of keys.

“I’m home!” Phichit yelled and shut the door. “Have you been in that spot all day? Why are you listening to this song?” Phichit asked. He walked over to the sofa and pulled the blanket off of Yuuri’s head. He audibly gasped. “Are you okay?” Phichit grabbed Yuuri’s face and examined it. “Why are you crying? Did something happen?” Yuuri nodded and buried their face in Phichit’s chest. “What did Victor do that made you cry?”

“It wasn’t him,” Yuuri said between sobs. Phichit reached for Yuuri’s phone and placed it on the coffee table.

“Go put a cold washcloth on your face. I’ll make you some tea.” Yuuri obliged and went to the bathroom. They grabbed the extra, lime green washcloth from the towel rack and rinsed it. Then they rinsed it again with cold water and shivered. They wrung out the washcloth and returned to the living room. Phichit was at the stove, boiling water for the tea. Yuuri sat in their spot and brought their knees to their chest. They placed the washcloth over their eyes and tilted their head back. Yuuri heard their phone buzz against the coffee table.

> Mari: …You’re NOT done skating for the season?
> 
> Mari: …Whoops…

Minutes passed, and Phichit came out with two cups of tea: one for Yuuri and one for himself. He sat down next to Yuuri and put Yuuri’s teacup in their hands. “Now, tell me what’s going on,” he gently said. Yuuri reached for their phone and unlocked it. They scrolled up to Mari’s message from last night.

“Read from there,” Yuuri said. Phichit nodded. He damn near dropped the phone when he read the first line. After that, Phichit immediately put down Yuuri’s phone and pulled Yuuri into a hug. “Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry,” Phichit said. “Mari isn’t very good at having tact, is she?” Yuuri shook their head. They put down their tea and washcloth to draw their knees to their chest again. “Would you prefer it if I left you alone?” Yuuri shook their head. “Okay,” he said. “So, Mari waited how long to tell you?” Yuuri shrugged. “Do you want me to ask her?” Yuuri nodded.

> : Hey Mari, it’s Phichit. How long did you wait to tell Yuuri about Vicchan?
> 
> Mari: Hey, Phichit. Vicchan hasn’t been with us since October.

“She said since October.” Hearing that made Yuuri want to cry more. “Oh, no.” Phichit started to run the palm of their hand up and down Yuuri’s back to calm them.

> Mari: Is he okay? Should I call him?

“Mari wants to know if it’s okay to call.”

“No,” Yuuri whimpered.

> : They said no.

Yuuri wiped their eyes on Phichit’s shirt. “Let me go put on something softer so you can continue crying on me.” Yuuri pulled away from Phichit and wiped their eyes. “Drink your tea,” Phichit said. He got up and went to the back to change. Yuuri turned their attention to their tea. They grabbed the mug; it was still hot. Yuuri blew on their tea and tried to take a sip. Their hands were still shaking. Yuuri held their cup in their trembling hands and tried to breathe slowly.

> Mari: I’m really sorry.
> 
> Mari: I really wanted to tell you sooner.

Yuuri wiped their sore eyes and winced. They looked at their sister’s messages and felt nothing, and decided to focus on their tea again. They brought the mug to their lips and took a sip despite their trembling. Phichit picked chamomile. They took small sips of tea and felt their muscles relax. Yuuri picked up their phone and debated on texting Victor to apologize for today. They went to the messages they shared with Victor.

: Sorry about having to cancel on you at the last minute. I feel terrible about not telling you and letting you come to my door only for me to make you leave.

Yuuri looked at their text. They didn’t do anything with it; instead, they went back to Mari’s messages. They put their phone down when Phichit came back into the room. “What did Mari say?” He paused The Downward Spiral. “Stop listening to that.” Yuuri unlocked their phone and gave it to Phichit. He read through the recent texts.

> : Then why didn’t you? – Phichit
> 
> Mari: Like I told him, I wanted to wait until he was done skating.
> 
> Mari: Plus, we know how he can be at times. I wanted to wait until it was a good time to tell him.
> 
> Mari: But it seems that it’s never a good time with Yuuri.
> 
> Mari: Ever lol

Phichit showed Yuuri their phone. Yuuri wiped their eyes, rolled them, again and took a sip of tea. "I don't know why she's laughing. This situation is not a laughing matter." 

“Do you want me to tell her that?” Yuuri shrugged.

> : Yuuri said: “This isn’t a laughing matter.”
> 
> Mari: I know, I know. And I'm wrong, and I'm sorry.

Phichit passed Yuuri their phone. Yuuri shrugged and returned their attention to their tea. They peered into brown liquid and felt their vision blur. “Yuuri? Yuuri?” Phichit said. He had their hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and was gently shaking them. “You spaced out there.” Yuuri shrugged.

“How long was I like that?”

“For about a minute,” Phichit said. “Maybe you should lay down. Try and sleep, you know?” Yuuri shrugged again.

“I don’t think I want to sleep,” Yuuri murmured. They looked at the ceiling and zoned out again. Phichit took the mug out of their hand and placed it on the coffee table.

“Mon lapinou, please go to bed,” he pleaded. “You’re worrying me.” Phichit squatted in front of Yuuri and placed their hands on their knees.

“I don’t know if sleep will make this better.” Yuuri placed their hands over Phichit’s. “What if I go to sleep, and everything is worse tomorrow?” Phichit shrugged. “What difference does it make if I remain awake?”

"You need to have the energy to deal with it, and you won't get that energy by staying awake." Phichit reached for their mug of tea and sipped. “So, go to bed.”

“Will you be here in the morning?” Yuuri tentatively asked.

“Always,” Phichit said. Yuuri reached for their mug and took a sip of tea. “So, will you go to bed?” Yuuri nodded. “Thank you.”

By the time Yuuri decided that they wanted to go to bed, they were only halfway done with their cup of tea. They felt terrible for not drinking all of it, but they didn't have the stomach to finish it. Right then, all they wanted to do was sleep and forget today.

#

 **(Saturday, 5 December 2015 –** **12:01am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Despite Yuuri being drop-dead exhausted, they couldn’t bring themselves to sleep. Yuuri was awake, staring at the ceiling while Phichit was calmly sleeping across from them. They envied how they could sleep without hearing disembodied voices and sounds constantly assailing them. Right now, they were entertaining the thought of laying out on the freeway. “I could do it,” they thought. And the idea was tempting. They could walk to the highway and lay down and wait for their end to come.

Yuuri got out of bed and went into the living room. They didn’t know what they were doing in there, but it was better than just laying down and looking at the ceiling. They laid prostrate on the sofa, their face awkwardly against the arm of the couch. The voices were still pummeling them, and Yuuri wanted to escape them, but no matter where they’d go, they were going to be there.

Yuuri rolled themselves off of the sofa and got their phone off of the coffee table. They wanted to see Olivia right now despite Khoudia’s insistence on never seeing her again.

> : Where are you staying?
> 
> Olivia: Hollow Isle Apartments.
> 
> : What apartment?
> 
> Olivia: 6D. Why?
> 
> : I’m coming over.

Yuuri left their phone on the arm of the sofa. They quietly made their way back into the bedroom and went in their drawer. They took out a turtleneck, a pair of jeans, and socks. Yuuri would have to figure out where Hollow Isle is, but they knew that they would have to either walk or take a cab to Olivia’s place. The buses in the area don’t run after a certain time. Yuuri went back into the living room. They sat down and put their socks on over the legs of their pajama pants. Their phone buzzed.

> Olivia: Why? It’s late.
> 
> : Can't I see you?
> 
> Olivia: I mean, you CAN, but after I hit on you, I figured that you wouldn't want to see me.
> 
> Olivia: Plus, shouldn’t late-night visits be reserved for your boyfriend?
> 
> : Look, I just want to see you tonight. Can't we leave it at that?
> 
> Olivia: Fine, fine. Hollow Isle Apartments. North Gate. Apartment 6D. Call me when you’re in front of the building.
> 
> : Okay.

Yuuri put on their jeans and pulled off their t-shirt. They went back to the back to get their deodorant and brush their teeth. They also brushed out their hair while they were brushing their teeth. They wanted to look semi-presentable for Olivia despite this decision being last minute and not being well thought out. “Why do I even want to see Olivia of all people?” They asked themselves. They knew that she was right; that they should be reserving late-night visits for Victor. But they wanted to see her tonight. They wanted to see her and find some physical release. 

Yuuri put on deodorant and put on their turtleneck. They put on their scarf and then went to the living room closet to get their hoodie. Then they put on their Docs and coat. They grabbed their phone and left. They were going to see Olivia tonight.

It was a thirty-minute walk from Yuuri’s home to where Olivia was staying, but the time seemed to fly for Yuuri.

“Hey,” Yuuri said. They were in front of the building. “I'm here.”

“Oh, you actually came?” Olivia said. “Alright. I’ll ring the bell for you. But I will warn you – the second door is kind of tough to open.” Yuuri nodded. Olivia ended the call, and Yuuri waited for her to ring the bell. She did as she said, and Yuuri quickly opened the doors. They approached the elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor.

> Olivia: Did you get in?
> 
> : I’m in. I’m waiting for the elevator.

The elevator came, and Yuuri got on. It smelled like a box of Fruity Pebbles. Before Yuuri knew it, they were at Olivia’s front door. They knocked and waited with bated breath.

“Hey,” Olivia said when she opened the door. Yuuri threw their arms around her. “Nice to see you, too.” Yuuri sniffed her hair, and it smelled like kiwis and limes. "Come in." Olivia grabbed their hand and led them inside.

“What were you doing when I texted you?”

“I was going to go to bed.” Yuuri nodded. They unzipped their coat and placed it on the back of a dining chair. Then they pulled off their Docs and put those under the chair. “Why did you decide to see me and not your boyfriend? Are you getting bored with him already?” Yuuri shook their head and took off their scarf and put it in their sleeve.

“No,” Yuuri said with a wry smile. “I just wanted to see you.”

“I want to explore that. And we can explore it in my room. My cousin is letting me stay here while she’s in Italy.” Olivia grabbed Yuuri’s hand and walked them to her room. It wasn't decorated; instead, it was barren. The only thing that had character was the bed, and that's only because the comforter was a coin grey color, and the pillowcases were berry blue. She also had a pastel red macaron pillow. There was a desk and a chair. "Take a seat somewhere, anywhere." Yuuri picked the desk chair. “Of course you’d pick there.” Olivia sat at the foot of the bed and crossed her legs. She was in an oversized nightshirt that had lavender petals on it. “So, let’s explore why you wanted to see me.” There was a silence between the two of them. She smiled. “Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way to say it without sounding dumb or getting shot down.”

“Why would I shoot you down?” Olivia asked. Then it clicked for her. She smirked. “You’re a hoe.” Yuuri shrugged. "You are a hoe, and you are trying to tempt a God-fearing woman." She was laughing now. 

“I was afraid of this,” Yuuri said. “I’ll just go.” They moved to get up; Olivia grabbed their sleeve.

“I should have mentioned that this God-fearing woman is weak to temptation,” Olivia said. Her voice was sultry; she was giving them goosebumps right now. Olivia pulled Yuuri and the chair towards her. She tugged at their arm and beckoned them to sit on the bed. But first, she hugged them. Her arms were as soft as they remembered them.

“What are you doing?”

“You look like you needed a hug before I fuck the shit out of you.” Yuuri started to laugh. “By the time I’m done, you’re going to need crutches to walk.”

“Are you going to break my fucking legs?”

Olivia had a blank look on her face. Then she smiled. “You’re so cute.” She laughed again. “Take off your hoodie.” Yuuri struggled out of their hoodie and placed it on the back of their chair. “But seriously, you looked like you needed a hug.” Olivia stroked Yuuri’s face. “And you look like you need more hugs. A lot more hugs.” She took them into their arms again and ran her fingers through their hair. She partially pulled away and pulled their face towards her. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She huskily said. She was moving in to kiss them.

“No,” Yuuri whispered. Olivia pulled away. Yuuri felt tears prick their nasolacrimal ducts and wiped their eyes. “I don’t even know why I’m here anymore.”

“Is this about your boyfriend again?” Yuuri nodded. They held their wrists to their eyes. “He doesn’t have to know about it. You know I can keep secrets.”

“ _He_ doesn’t have to know, but _I’m_ going to know, and _I’m_ going to have to live with this.” Yuuri sharply inhaled. “And I know that if this happens, I’m going to end up telling them, and he honestly might break up with me because he’s going to hate me.” Yuuri felt their nose start to run. "I can't do this, and I'm sorry for even coming." Yuuri felt the tears come in harder, and their sleeves weren’t doing a good job at holding their tears anymore. Olivia got up, went into a drawer, and gave Yuuri a pack of tissues. “Thank you.”

Olivia sat on the bed and crossed her legs. She sighed. “This isn’t really _about_ your boyfriend and me, is it?” Yuuri looked at her. “Come on, talk to me. What’s going on?” Yuuri blew their nose and tossed the tissue in the wastebasket. “Gross.” Yuuri looked at her again. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Yuuri took a deep breath and tried to find their center. They found it but didn’t know where to start. They felt their breath hitch, and they coughed. Olivia patted their back.

“Are you going to tell me?” Yuuri shrugged. A silence fell in the room. “Do you want to smoke with me? I saw my guy recently. He was happy to see me. And sell me some new strain.”

“New?”

“Well, not _new_ , but something I haven’t had before. It’s called Laughing Buddha.” Yuuri nodded. Olivia got the box from under her bed. “I rolled some blunts earlier. You could go ahead and get it started.”

“Is this going to make me hallucinate?”

“It…shouldn’t?” She said, wondering herself. “That’s a really specific question. Will you let me know if it does?” Yuuri nodded. Olivia stretched and sat back on her bed. Yuuri reached into her box and took out a blunt and a lighter. It looks like the same one they gave her. They reached for their phone and started to play Channel Orange. Yuuri lit the blunt, took two hits, and passed it to Olivia.

“Did I give you this lighter?”

“You did,” said she. “I don’t use it often. I’m trying to hold on to it for as long as I can.” Yuuri nodded. Olivia took two hits and passed it back. “My guy said that it’s supposed to make you feel good.”

“‘Good’ how?” She shrugged. “You mean to tell me that you got me smoking some shit that you don’t know about?”

“I told you it’s called Laughing Buddha, and it’s supposed to make you feel good. What more do you want from me?” Yuuri took two hits and passed it back. “You can look it up if you want.” Yuuri reached for their phone and quickly searched for “Laughing Buddha” on Leafly. They promptly scrolled through it. It shouldn’t make their hallucinations worse, and it might alleviate what they’re feeling. “So?” She said.

“Mentally, I should be fine,” Yuuri said. “But Phichit might murder me when he finds out that I’ve smoked.”

"No, he won't," Olivia said. "You're exaggerating." She took two hits, and Yuuri took the blunt. They took a hit and held it. “So, now that we’re high let’s talk about you.”

“It hasn’t hit me yet. Give me a few minutes.” They took another hit. “Do you still want the blunt?” Olivia nodded. They were only halfway done with the blunt, and Olivia was blazed. Yuuri laughed. She’s such a lightweight; Olivia took two hits and held it. She started to play with Yuuri’s hair. She passed the blunt back to Yuuri, and they took two hits.

“Ready to talk?” Yuuri shrugged and passed it back.

“I just needed to get out of the house. I needed to look at someone.”

“Don't you stay with Phichit?” Yuuri nodded. “You could just look at him.” Olivia took two hits and passed the blunt.

“I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t disturb his sleep with me being a piss baby,” Yuuri said. They took two hits. “All I knew was that I couldn’t be in that apartment.” Yuuri looked down at their fingers and the blunt. “If you didn’t answer, I was probably going to either go to the park and lay in the grass or the freeway.” Yuuri took a deep, deep breath to try and fight back the tears. “I just don’t want to be anywhere anymore.” Tears started to roll down Yuuri’s face again. Olivia gave them the packet of tissues back and took the blunt.

“What happened? What triggered this?”

“You remember Vicchan, right?” She unhurriedly nodded. “Well, recently, my sister told me…” Yuuri took a deep breath. They patted themselves for their phone; it was still in their coat. “Let me get my phone.” Yuuri pulled away from Olivia again and went into the living room for their phone. They unlocked their phone and prepared Mari’s texts for Olivia’s viewing pleasure. When Yuuri came back into the room, Olivia was on her phone. She looked at the texts from last night and the day before. She was clutching Yuuri’s hand as she read.

“I’m so sorry you had to find out like this,” Olivia said. She gave them another hug. “If you need me, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. They locked their phone and put it on the desk. “And ever since Mari told me, I’ve just been falling apart.” Olivia nodded. “It’s not even about Vicchan anymore. I just want to die right now.” Olivia squeezed Yuuri’s hand again. “And I needed to see someone – anyone – to get my mind off of everything.”

“If you could’ve seen Khoudia, would you have gone to her?” Yuuri shrugged. “Well, regardless, I’m glad you picked me. I’ll do my best to ensure that you’re okay.” Yuuri nodded. Olivia gave back the blunt. They took two hits and passed it back. “Does your, uh, ‘boyfriend’ know about Vicchan?” She took two more hits and gave it back.

“I haven’t talked to him since yesterday,” Yuuri said. Then they took two hits.

“And why’s that?”

“We were supposed to go to the museum yesterday, and I kind of bailed on him. I wouldn’t speak to him either. He might hate me now.” Yuuri took two more hits and passed the blunt back. “If he hates me now, I wouldn’t blame him.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” Olivia said between hits. She coughed and passed it. Yuuri shrugged and hit. “It's hard to hate someone as lovable as you.”

“I thought you said I was unlovable,” Yuuri said as they passed it.

Olivia took hits and held it. “No,” she started, “I said that Jason made you _feel_ like you were unlovable. Big difference.”

“Doesn’t feel like there’s much of a difference,” Yuuri said. They took the blunt and hit it. They were starting to get down to the bottom of it. “I’m afraid that my boyfriend is going to find out what Jason already knew, too.”

“He can’t,” Olivia said. Yuuri passed the blunt back. “You’re you.” Yuuri shrugged. “Don’t shrug. He’s not Jason.” Olivia held it. “He isn’t, right?”

“I think I would have long since died if he was Jason,” Yuuri said. They laid back and closed their eyes. Olivia laid down next to them.; she dragged the mouthpiece of the blunt against their lips. “What are you doing? I already hit.”

“Did you?” She asked. Yuuri nodded. Olivia started laughing. Then Yuuri started to laugh.

“Why are you making me laugh?” They said between brief fits.

“I’m not!” She lightly jabbed Yuuri. “I took my hit. Your turn. We’re almost there.” Olivia ran her hand through Yuuri’s hair and put the blunt between their lips; they took a hit and held it out for Olivia. She took it from them and held it. “What do you want to do after?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said.

“What do you know?” Olivia asked with a smile.

“I know that I know nothing,” they said. They put their fingers in Olivia’s kiwi and lime-scented hair. “I also know that your hair smells nice.” They brought a section of her hair to their face and let it rest over their nose.

“Are you going to start eating my hair?” Olivia said with a laugh.

“No, it just smells nice. I like it.” Yuuri sharply inhaled. They started to wonder about how Victor’s hair smells. They realized that they’ve never actually sniffed their hair. They’ve played in it after their play, but they haven’t smelled it autonomously. They made a mental note to smell his hair eventually.

“Does your boyfriend’s hair smell nice?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri simply said. They started to massage Olivia’s scalp. “I’m guessing it smells good. They usually smell good.” Yuuri inhaled again. “But I’ve missed smelling your hair. Did you keep using the same shampoo in France?” Olivia nodded. “I hope your fiancé smelled your hair a lot.”

“They got whiffs of it, but they didn’t do it like you,” she said. “They couldn’t do a lot of things like you.” She placed finished the blunt and put her hand on Yuuri’s pectoralis major. She picked and pulled at their turtleneck.

“You know I can’t do this,” Yuuri said. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Whom I’ve never seen,” she said. “What does he even look like? What’s his name? These are things that I want to know.”

“Well, he’s tall and white.”

“What is it with you and white guys?” Yuuri shrugged. “Continue.”

“He has these pretty eyes. He had long hair, but he cut it recently. Um…” Yuuri trailed off and started to follow an imaginary line on the ceiling. “His mouth kind of looks like a heart when he smiles. It’s cute. He’s unnecessarily cute.” Olivia giggled. “He loves to cuddle, too,” Yuuri said. “He’s soft and sweet and sensitive.”

“Would you say that his sensitivity matches yours?”

“In a different way, yes,” Yuuri said. "The sensitive artist meets the sensitive writer, and the two have undeniable chemistry. Chemistry?" They questioned themselves. "Yeah, chemistry. That's the common word for it. They have undeniable chemistry, and after what feels like forever, they go on a date and that was the official start of their relationship.”

“So that’s what happened?” Yuuri nodded. “It needs more pizzazz, but that’s just me.”

“What do you mean by ‘pizzazz’?”

“I don’t know. It needs more… I don’t know.” Olivia yawned. “Let me move my box.” She forced herself up and placed her box back under the bed. She flopped on the bed and made it so that she was eye to eye with Yuuri. Yuuri opened their eyes and looked at Olivia. She started to giggle again. She lightly touched their nose. “Your face is dumb,” she said.

“So is yours,” Yuuri retorted. They started to laugh.

“But your face is dumb _er_.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. Olivia moved to scratch her chest. “I think I might go to sleep.”

“I might, too,” Yuuri said. “You don’t mind if I sleep with you, do you?” Olivia smiled and shook her head. “Wait, is that a ‘yes’ or ‘no’?”

“That was a ‘no’ as in ‘no, I don’t mind.’” Yuuri nodded. She pulled the covers back and got under them. “Do you want to take your jeans off?” Yuuri nodded. They forced themselves out of bed and undid the button and zipper of their jeans. They pulled them down, exposing their pastel pink pajama pants and black, geometric socks. They pulled off their socks and put them on the desk, next to their phone. They got in bed next to Olivia and looked at the ceiling. If they could reach it, they would touch the line that started above their head. Yuuri looked over at Olivia; she seemed to be fast asleep. Yuuri decided that it was in their best interests to sleep, too.

#


	49. Pack Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filler. You would miss nothing if you skipped it.

#

**(Saturday, 5 December 2015 – 10:30am** **, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Olivia and Yuuri were at a café near Wayne. She didn’t feel like cooking this morning. Yuuri's mouth was dry, and all they wanted was to have something to drink. They picked a chamomile tea; Olivia opted for a peppermint mocha latte. They sat by the window. Yuuri took the lid off of their tea to cool it. Olivia blew into the mouthpiece. Yuuri yawned.

“So, how do you feel?” Olivia asked.

“About what?” Yuuri kept their eyes fixated on their tea.

“Vicchan.” Yuuri shrugged. “Do you think you feel any better?” Yuuri shrugged again. “Are you mad at your sister?” Yuuri shrugged. "Come on; you've _got_ to know something.” Yuuri shrugged. “You’re hopeless.”

“I guess,” Yuuri said. They blew on their tea. Yuuri checked their phone. Nothing from Phichit, Mari, or Victor. Yuuri _did_ , however, have a text from Khoudia. She was asking if Yuuri was okay. Yuuri didn’t open her text because they had no clue what to say to her. Olivia reached for Yuuri’s hand and held it. Her fingers were cold. “What are you doing?”

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Olivia said. She brought Yuuri’s hand to her mouth and kissed their knuckles. “You just need to give it some time.”

“Give me your guy’s number,” Yuuri said. “I might need to see him.” Olivia nodded and took out her phone. “What’s his name?”

“He tells me to call him Monté,” Olivia said as she found his contact info. “Is his name actually Monté, though? _Non lo so._ ” She passed Yuuri her phone. Yuuri took down Monté’s number. “I should text him to let him know that I gave you his number.”

“Please do that.” Yuuri saved Monté’s contact information and put their phone away.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Olivia asked.

“Do whatever.” Olivia rolled her eyes and started to laugh. “What’s so funny?” She didn’t know what was funny; she just knew that she was laughing. Yuuri put the lid on their tea and took a sip. It was cooler now. Yuuri took a sip and cleared their throat; their mouth was getting progressively less dry. Olivia took a sip of her peppermint mocha latte. “Is it a good idea to drink a latte with a dry mouth?” She shrugged and took another sip. She made a face. “Did you burn your tongue?” She nodded.

“It’s so good, though. I think I can live with a burned tongue.” She took another sip and smiled. “I’m glad you decided to come over last night.” Yuuri smiled and took a sip of tea. “I was worried that you didn’t want to see me again after dinner. I don’t think I could bear it if you never wanted to see me again.” Olivia took a sip of her latte and burned her tongue again. “Could you?”

“Well, we had already endured years of not seeing each other. Surely we could go longer.”

"But I don't want to go longer. I have you back in my life, and I don't want you out of it." Yuuri remained silent. Olivia laced fingers with Yuuri and let her thumb stroke theirs. Yuuri took another sip of tea. “I have a question, though,” she said.

“What is it?”

“Does Phichit know you’re with me?”

“He was asleep when I left.” Olivia deadpanned. “What?”

“Let’s go,” Olivia said. She took a sip of her latte and burned her tongue again. Olivia got up from their window seat and held out her hand for Yuuri. “You have to get home before Phichit starts to worry about you.”

“He hasn’t texted me at all. He probably thinks I’m fine.”

“I don’t care. You need to get home.” Yuuri got out of their seat and grabbed their tea. They ignored Olivia’s outstretched hand. Once she got the hint, they walked out of the café.

Olivia had Yuuri guide her to the apartment. She pecked them on the cheek and waited until they were inside to leave. Yuuri checked the mail; there was nothing in the box. They slowly walked up the stairs and went to their front door. They unlocked the door, and Phichit was up and reading the paper on the sofa. 

“Look who decides to come home,” Phichit said, his head deep into the newspaper.

“Yes, I’m home,” Yuuri said. They took off their shoes by the door and started to undress. “Been up long?”

“Yes, actually,” Phichit said, “I have.”

“Really?” Phichit made an affirming sound. “Since when?”

“Oh, about five,” he said. Yuuri stopped taking off their shirt. “Your phone must’ve been off. You didn’t pick up when I called.”

“Probably,” Yuuri said. “How many times did you call me?”

“Ten,” Phichit said.

“Why are you so clipped?”

“Because Victor dropped by,” Phichit said. Yuuri looked dead at Phichit. Phichit briefly closed their paper to look at Yuuri and opened it to continue reading. “I don’t know what you did, why you did it, or what came of it, but all you need to know is that you could have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for your boyfriend being fucking gay.”

“Good to know.”

“So, how is she?”

“Fine,” Yuuri said. “She’s staying at her cousin’s. It’s a big apartment.”

“None of my business,” Phichit said. Yuuri sighed and went to the bedroom to continue undressing. They put their phone on their desk and plugged it to their charger. They continued to undress in peace. Once they got down to their underwear, they checked their dead phone and started to enter their password into the login screen. Fourteen missed calls.

> Victor: Yuuri, where are you?
> 
> Victor: Yuuri
> 
> Victor: Yuuri Katsuki
> 
> Victor: Answer your phone. Phichit and I are trying to reach you.
> 
> Victor: Goddamn it, Yuuri.

Yuuri locked their phone and opened Victor’s messages on their Mac.

> : I just got back in. Did something happen?
> 
> Victor: Um, yes. Multiple things.
> 
> : Oh god
> 
> : Okay, lay it on me. I’m ready.

Three dotty bois appeared in the chat window but disappeared as soon as they came. Before Yuuri knew it, Victor was calling, and Yuuri was accepting a FaceTime request from their boyfriend. Victor was in the living room with a cup of tea. “Good morning,” Yuuri said. Victor looked at them. “If you’re just going to be like this, I can hang up and give you however much space you need.”

“I don’t _need_ space; I _need_ answers,” Victor said. “Where were you all night that you’re just _now_ getting in? Who were you with?” Yuuri started to take off their shirt. When it was off, they draped it over their shoulder.

“I went out and crashed at a friend’s place for a bit,” Yuuri said. “We went out for coffee, and they dropped me off, and now I’m at home.”

“And that’s _all_ that happened?” Victor dubiously asked.

“Yes,” Yuuri said. “I just needed to step out for a while.”

“That was a long ass while, Yuuri,” Victor said.

“ _You’ve_ kept me out for a long ass while,” Yuuri said. “I’m an adult.”

“I know, Yuuri, but you could’ve at least told someone where you were going last night.” Victor rolled his eyes. “You could’ve stayed with me.”

“You were too far.”

“You could’ve picked a place closer to me and home.”

“I needed a long walk to think.”

“Think about _what_?”

“Just some situation. I’ll tell you about it when I can think clearer,” Yuuri said before they cleared their throat. They leaned back in their computer chair, rolling their eyes and sighing.

“I want to hear all about it,” Victor said. “I guess I should let you go to bed now. You look exhausted.”

  
“Yeah, depression does that,” Yuuri said. Victor deadpanned.

“You’re not funny, you know,” Victor said. Yuuri shrugged. Victor deadpanned again. “Alright then, good morning.”

“Good morning,” Yuuri said. They threw their shirt onto the lens of the webcam, and Victor hung up. Yuuri started to take off their pants and pajama bottoms and threw them on the laptop when they were off. They got up and flung themselves into their nest/bed and started to think of the meds they should get back on.

#

**(Saturday, 5 December 2015 –** **5:24pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri woke up to Phichit shaking them. They pinched the veins in his wrist. “Let go of me. I’ve been calling you.” Yuuri let go, sat up, and rubbed their eyes. “Do you want to order something for dinner?”

“Yeah, sure. What are you in the mood for?” Yuuri asked casually.

“It’s been a while since we had halal,” Phichit said.

“Okay, halal then,” Yuuri said.

“You know my order.” Yuuri nodded. They got up and threw the clothes on their computer onto the bed. They sat down and went to Uber Eats.

> Olivia: Wyd
> 
> : Nothing much. Just ordering food.

Yuuri started to enter in Phichit’s order. They had a notification from Victor in the corner.

> Olivia: The usual?
> 
> : Yeah.
> 
> Olivia: You wanna come over tomorrow? I missed smoking with you.
> 
> : I was thinking about cooling it for a while. Let things settle at home and with my boyfriend before I decide to be a shithead again.
> 
> Olivia: That’s fair.
> 
> Olivia: At least I’ll be seeing you at the rink. Right?
> 
> : Of course.

Yuuri went back to the open tab and started to enter in their order, but then they went back to iMessage to respond to Victor.

> Victor: [has sent an attachment]
> 
> : Wait, what am I seeing?
> 
> Victor: The pile of clothes in my room. I’m finally going to fold them.
> 
> : Yes, good. Fold your clothes.

Yuuri went back to Uber Eats and sent in their order. They leaned back in their chair and Yuuri grabbed their phone to check their messages.

> : What inspired you to fold your clothes?
> 
> Victor: I want to strive to keep a better home.
> 
> Victor: And it starts with folding the clothes in my chair.
> 
> : I’m glad you want to make a positive change in your life.
> 
> : I should get around to making a positive change in my life, too.

Yuuri opened Notes and started to look through the list they had composed in their hypnagogia. They sighed at the fact that they were a human drug testing facility, but they could also acknowledge that their life would be fractionally easier if they _did_ go back on them. So they decided that they were going to ask Mama Awa to take them to the doctor when they come home from Marseilles.

They also felt that something else was brewing: socially, politically, existentially, and personally. They couldn’t put their finger on it, but they felt it in their achy, ill bones.

> Victor: Where would you like to start?
> 
> : Idk. Probably my interpersonal relationships. I could afford to leave a few bags behind.
> 
> Victor: Is that what you refer to your interpersonal relationships as? Baggage?
> 
> Victor: Tbqh I’m shocked.
> 
> : …It was an Erykah Badu reference.
> 
> Victor: I don’t think I know who that is.

Yuuri went to their home screen and swiped down. They searched for “Bag Lady” and sent him the link to it on Apple Music.

> : Pack light, Bag Lady

Yuuri put their phone down and opened Messages on their Mac. They searched for their messages with Mama Awa.

> : Mama
> 
> Awa: Oui?
> 
> : Can you take me to the doctor after the Grand Prix?
> 
> Awa: Oui.
> 
> : Thank you. Love you.
> 
> Awa: Je t'aime aussi ((heart emoji)).

“Yuuri!” Phichit yelled from the living room.

“Yeah?”

“What time is the food coming?”

“ _Come here_ ,” Yuuri said in Thai. Yuuri went back to their browser and opened Uber Eats. They looked at their nails while they waited for Phichit to come. When he finally walked into the bedroom, Yuuri said, “I know you’re mad, but you can at least lose the attitude when _you_ asked about our dinner for tonight.”

“Fine,” Phichit said. “What time is the food coming?”

“5:56pm,” Yuuri said. “Or so.”

“Thank you,” Phichit said. He went back into the living room. Yuuri sighed and went back to Messages.

> : You could’ve just texted me your question.
> 
> : You wanted to talk. What’s going on?
> 
> Phichit: I just wanted to ask you since texting might’ve taken too long.
> 
> : I have a Mac and an iPhone. You have an iPhone. I would’ve seen your text.
> 
> Phichit: …I’m going to watch K-dramas. Leave me alone.
> 
> : As you wish
> 
> : ผมรักคุณ

Yuuri looked at the text Victor had sent: “Okay, I listened to the song.”

> : And?
> 
> Victor: I don’t see the appeal, aesthetically or otherwise. I’m sure her music has some deeper meaning than I can parse at first listen, but something about her makes me want to not give her music the benefit of the doubt.
> 
> : She’s not for everyone ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Victor: The most rational thing I think you’ve said/done in the past month.
> 
> : …

Yuuri closed Messages on their phone and Mac. They grabbed their sketchbook from out of their bag and their watercolors from their desk. “A grown person getting castigated for going and staying out, we gon see who’s getting castigated,” Yuuri mentally grumbled as they ran over Victor’s texts and Phichit’s attitude while they prepped their palette and paints. The prompt for this installment of the Anger Art Series™? “I’ll break my silence; I’ll break everything!”

#


	50. Captain Jewels in the Carcanet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri gets life advice from unlikely sources.

#

**(Monday, 7 December 2015 – 2:20pm** **, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri finished up their Anger Art Series™ submission and went straight to bed. Phichit devolved into just giving Yuuri the silent treatment after their food came. Victor continued to be weird. While they were sketching, they had become consumed with anger, but also guilt. They felt remorseful over going over to where Olivia lays her head to use her as a jump-off, and the fact that they wanted _her_ to be the jump-off made Yuuri angry. But what made them _more upset_ was that they were going to cheat on Victor. They had a lot to be angry and guilty about, and all they could do was just draw it out.

“Hey,” Victor’s disembodied voice said in Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri looked to their left. He was standing there.

“You startled me,” Yuuri said after a deep breath. Victor chuckled lightly and sat next to Yuuri.

“You look like death.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Yuuri said. They closed their eyes and leaned on the arm of the chair. Victor reached over and stroked Yuuri’s face. “What?”

“I love you,” Victor said. Yuuri opened an eye and looked at Victor. Victor placed the weight of his torso onto the nearest one of Yuuri’s arms. “Sit up right. I’m trying to kiss you.” Yuuri chuckled. They pushed Victor off of them and turned around to face him.

“Move closer,” Yuuri said. Victor scooched forward. Yuuri put their hands on Victor’s shoulders and rubbed them. Victor’s hair smelled like cedarwood, acceptable. They put their forehead to his and trailed their finger down his jawline. Victor sharply inhaled, and Yuuri took the plunge and kissed him. Victor’s hands grabbed Yuuri’s and immediately brought them towards his body. Victor moved his hands towards Yuuri’s body. But then Yuuri pulled away. “We’re in the library.”

“Then why bother kissing me like you want to fuck me?” Yuuri shrugged. Victor rolled his eyes. Yuuri resumed leaning on the arm of the sofa. “Shrugging isn’t a valid answer.”

“Why are you nitpicking?”

“Why won’t you just give a straight answer?”

“Why are you talking with bass in your voice?” Victor looked at Yuuri.

“I had come over here to spend time with you and apologize for the way I came at you on Saturday,” Victor said. “I didn’t come over here to get hit on only to be reprimanded when I didn’t initiate it in the form it took.” Yuuri looked at Victor. “I just wanted to see you.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said.

“I’m sorry, too,” Victor said. “Is Phichit still mad at you?” Yuuri nodded. “I’m sorry I blew your cover, too, I suppose; although, you _should_ have at least left a note or texted him.” Victor looked at Yuuri. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say, ‘Yeah, I could have probably left a note or texted,’ or something of the sort,” Victor said. Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Or what?” Yuuri asked, never once wavering despite their quaking insides. Victor bit his lip.

“I won’t see you at all in Marseille,” Victor said. Yuuri looked Victor in the nose. “We won’t have a museum date or our post-game art discussion in the café or –”

“Yeah, sure, whatever, I’ll text when I sneak out next time,” Yuuri said.

“Declined. It doesn’t seem genuine.”

“I’ll text next time I go out,” Yuuri said with a sigh.

“Thank you,” Victor said. He leaned in and kissed Yuuri. “We should do something Christmassy.” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s left hand and played with their nails. “Any ideas?”

“We can do something Christmas Eve.” Victor nodded and waited for Yuuri to elaborate. He looked at Yuuri; Yuuri looked back at him.

“Do _what_ on Christmas Eve?” Victor asked.

“Oh!” Yuuri brought their knuckle to their mouth in emulation of Olivia – to which they shuddered. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s go ice skating!” Victor beamed. Yuuri looked at him. “I mean, we don't _have_ to go ice skating, but it’d be nice to skate together… Just skating.”

“That is a hard –” Yuuri paused. They didn’t want to shoot him down hard and fast. Skating with Victor might be a lot of fun. “Maybe.” Victor smiled.

“Maybe we can have dinner, too.” Yuuri nodded. “It’ll be great. Believe me.” Victor brought Yuuri’s hands to his mouth. “So we’re going to go skating on Christmas Eve,” he said. “Should we go on the Western Christmas Eve or the Russian Christmas Eve?” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m thinking Western.” Victor moved closer to Yuuri. “What else should we do?”

“On Christmas Eve?”

“After the Grand Prix,” Victor said. Yuuri shrugged. “We should do something.” Yuuri shrugged. “You seem disinterested.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” Yuuri said, contrite. “I’m just exhausted.” Yuuri looked at their toe caps of their Docs. They need to be shined. They kept looking at their toe caps until Victor tilted their chin up. Victor’s thumb stroked their bottom lip.

“What class do you have next?” Victor asked.

“English,” Yuuri murmured. They grabbed Victor’s hand. “I should get going.”

“Does your class even start right now?” Yuuri shook their head. “Then why are you trying to get away from me so soon?” Yuuri shrugged. “Are you trying to sleep?” Yuuri shrugged again. "You're not very helpful. If you want to sleep, sleep on me." Yuuri looked up at Victor’s face. They leaned in and placed their head on them. They doubted that they would be able to get sleep right now, but surely it would just be nice lean on him. Just for right now. Yuuri closed their eyes and snuggled up to their boyfriend. “What time does your class start?”

“3:30.”

“I’ll walk you,” Victor asserted.

“Is it 3:30 already?”

“No.”

“Then why did you tell me?” Yuuri asked. He inhaled.

“Because I can,” Victor said. “Don’t you want me to walk you to class? Don’t you like it?” Yuuri remained silent. “Okay, how about this? Why are you bad at words?” Yuuri shrugged. "Come on; this is something you _have_ to know.” Yuuri shrugged again. Victor sighed.

“I guess I’m just naturally bad at expressing myself. My sister’s tried to help me become more expressive – ‘use more words’ – but I was kind of bad at that, too.” Yuuri bit their lip. “Which is a shame because Mari tried hard with me. She never wanted to give up.”

“Couldn’t your parents help you ‘use more words’?”

"They didn't understand how to, though. My parents tried in their way, though. I have to give them that." Yuuri pulled away and rubbed their eyes. "They tried. I can't complain. I just wish they would've tried different ways."

“How did your sister try?”

“Art. We would look at art together and have me explain what I saw and how it made me feel. The feeling part was always an abstract concept, but she took her time explaining things and such. She was extremely patient. Like you.”

“Like me?” Yuuri nodded.

"You took your time with me – and you didn't have to, you know. I still don't get why, though. With Mari, it's understandable. With you, it's still confusing. You don't have anything to gain by being so patient with me. At least my sister did."

“But I do have something to gain,” Victor said. Yuuri squinted. “Haven’t you figured it out?”

“ _No_ , because I don't grasp the motives of others. I barely grasp my ulterior motives at times." Yuuri looked at their fingers. “Do you know what it’s like to be doing something and not quite grasping _why_ you’re doing it?”

“I can imagine that’s rough,” Victor said.

“Another thing: Imagining.”

“Can’t do that?” Yuuri shook their head. “Are you autistic?” The question caught Yuuri off-guard. Yuuri looked at Victor and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I offended you. You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, no, I will,” Yuuri said. “I am.” Victor nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something. “If you ask me ‘for how long,’ I am going to leave right now and never look back.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that!” Yuuri exhaled. Good. “I was going to say that this provides a new context to everything. So your rocking thing?”

“A stim.”

“And that thing you did in my living room?” Yuuri deadpanned. "You were wearing my boxers." Yuuri blinked. “I saw you.”

“That was _also_ a stim,” Yuuri hesitantly said. "But why were you awake at 2 am?"

“Why were you?” Victor questioned. Yuuri looked at Victor and started to pack up their things. Yuuri began to get up, and Victor grabbed their arm. “Wait, don’t go!” Victor cajoled. He pulled Yuuri down and into his lap. He kissed their neck and left their head there. Yuuri took out their phone. It's 2:50pm. "What do you do in English?" 

“English stuff.” Victor rolled his eyes.

“Like what?”

“Read essays. Discuss themes. Write essays.” Yuuri looked up at the ceiling. They never noticed that it was tiled before today. “I don’t talk much in English.”

“You should. It’s part of your grade.”

“I can’t. Talking in class isn’t the ninja way.” Victor made a face. “You need to watch more anime.”

“I plan on doing that with you.” Yuuri slid out of Victor’s lap. “We can do that after the Grand Prix.” Yuuri nodded.

“Do you have a class, or am I remembering this wrong?”

“No, I have a class,” Victor said. “I’m still going to walk you to your class, though.”

"That isn't necessary."

“I know,” he said. “But I want to. Let me have this.” Yuuri shrugged. They checked their phone; it's 2:55pm. They were practically counting the minutes until they get away from Victor. It’s not even that they don’t want to be around him; they cannot physically bear to be around their boyfriend. Victor’s essence was making them sick, and they felt ashamed: ashamed that they had the intent to hoe out recently, embarrassed that they couldn’t bring themselves to tell Victor about this, and ashamed that Victor’s presence was making them feel sick.

“I should get to class early,” Yuuri said, trying to get away from Victor.

“Do you usually get to class early?”

“Sometimes,” Yuuri said.

“What do you do when you get there early?”

“Draw.”

“And can’t you draw here?” Victor asked. “Being with me hasn’t stopped you before.”

“I _know_ , but –” Yuuri cut themselves off. “What I’m drawing is a surprise. And you can’t see it, or else it ceases to be a surprise.” That made Victor grin.

“I can’t wait to see this surprise.” While Victor was gushing about this multi-faceted surprise, Yuuri was kicking themselves. They hadn’t intended to draw anything for Victor. “Did you already start drawing the surprise?” Yuuri shook their head. “Can I make a request?”

“I suppose you could.”

“Draw you.”

“But I’ve already drawn myself for you.”

“No, draw yourself how you see yourself.” Yuuri made a face. Does Victor really want to see that? “Can you do that?”

“I can try, but it probably won’t be very good.”

"False. You're making it, so it's going to be good." Yuuri rolled their eyes. “I believe in you.” Yuuri got up again. “Are you ready to go?” Yuuri nodded. Victor gathered his things and followed Yuuri out of the library. “Stop walking like you’re trying to get away from me.”

“But I am,” Yuuri thought.

They reached the elevator, and Victor grabbed Yuuri's cold hand. Yuuri sharply inhaled. “What?” Victor asked.

“Nothing,” Yuuri said. Victor moved closer to Yuuri. Yuuri fought within themselves to not pull away from their boyfriend.

“It’s something,” Victor said. “You’re acting weird.”

“I am always weird. Try again.” Victor rolled his eyes.

“Well, _yes,_ you’re usually weird – and I love that – but you’re being weirder,” Victor said. Yuuri shrugged. “I’m going to find out what it is.”

"And I wish you luck in your endeavor." Victor rolled his eyes again. He was doing a lot of eye-rolling today. Yuuri looked over at him. They wanted to kiss his frustration away but decided that it was in their best interests not to touch him too much. They’d start feeling guilty again.

“You’re cruel.”

“Am I now?” Yuuri said.

“Yes,” Victor said. The elevator came. Yuuri stepped on and pulled Victor towards them. Victor stepped on the elevator and moved closer to Yuuri. He was a proud and constant invader of Yuuri's bubble. "You give me something, and it feels like we're progressing, but then it feels like somehow we take steps backward." Yuuri pushed the button for the floor and remained silent. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“I recognize and acknowledge your concerns about our relationship,” Yuuri said. The elevator door seemed to take its sweet time closing.

“Is that all?” Yuuri bit their lip.

“I think so, yes.” Victor deadpanned. “I’m sorry.” Victor remained silent. “You can go now if you want.”

“Are you honestly trying to get rid of me?” Victor asked. Now Yuuri felt an emptiness in their stomach. What do they even say to that? “Answer me.”

“No,” Yuuri said.

“Yes, you are.” Yuuri looked up at Victor and looked away. They let go of their hand and put them in their pockets. There was guilt. It had unfurled itself from wherever it was, and it was threatening to consume Yuuri. They’d have to live through it throughout English _and_ work on Victor’s “surprise.” If they were still going to keep up that story, that is. The elevator door finally closed and took them to where Yuuri needed to be. Victor, despite his angst and frustration, walked Yuuri to the door.

“Make sure you get to class,” Yuuri told Victor.

“I will,” Victor said. He didn’t give them a parting kiss or a hug, and it felt all _wrong_. Yuuri tentatively took their usual seat and closed their tired eyes to reflect. Where did it go wrong? Did it go wrong when Yuuri started to try to shake Victor off them, or did it go wrong when they let go of his hand? Either way, Yuuri got what they wanted (and wanted what they got), but it felt wrong. Yuuri realized that they’d have to work harder to get back in Victor’s good graces now, but right now, maybe they could focus on discussing this stupid English essay. 

#

**(Monday, 7 December 2015 –** **8:36pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was looking over their packing; they weren’t in the mood to eat or do anything other than pace, smoke, listen to the voices, and do Vincent Van Gogh Myself™ art, but they continued to go over their packing anyways. Their phone buzzed and vibrated in a specific manner. They reached on their desk and grabbed it.

> Victor: Stop bullying me (ノ°益°)ノ
> 
> : You really found a kaomoji just to convey your anger at me, a Jap?
> 
> : Wow. You’re a weirdo lmao
> 
> Victor: You’re bullying me again ヽ(`⌒´メ)ノ
> 
> : Love you, you fucking weird-ass white guy.
> 
> Victor: I love you, too, my sunshine.

Yuuri looked over their packing again. They had their meds, their 3DS, and their socks. They had their costumes and clean regular winter clothes; their equipment was in their Zuca. Yuuri reached onto their bed for their sketchbook and their pencil case and put them into their carryon bag. “Do you put 3DSs in the suitcase or the carryon bag?” Yuuri sighed. Khoudia would know.

> : Bâ Sène
> 
> Khoudia: What’s goin on, baby?
> 
> : Do you put your 3DS in your suitcase or the carryon?
> 
> Khoudia: Carryon. The 3DS has a battery.
> 
> : Thanks, Mami ((heart emoji))

Yuuri took their 3DS out of their suitcase and put it in a pocket of their carryon bag. Then they needed to text Khoudia again.

> : Khoudia, another question.
> 
> Khoudia: Go for it.
> 
> : Does France require you to have the original pill bottle, or can you have it in an organizer?
> 
> Khoudia: Organizer, but I’ll check with my mom to be sure.
> 
> : Thank you ((heart))

Yuuri sighed and flung themselves onto their suitcase. Then their phone buzzed and vibrated. Yuuri rolled off of their phone and looked. She rolled her eyes and accidentally smiled.

> Victor: Wyd
> 
> : Packing
> 
> Victor: Oh yeah, I have to pack for the Grand Prix.
> 
> : Victor…
> 
> Victor: I know, okay
> 
> : Go pack

She looked down at the chat window every few seconds, checking to see if he’s responded yet. The screen darkened, and white text appeared to notify Yuuri that the one and only Khoudia Bâ Sène was calling. “Do the FaceTime thing,” Khoudia said. “I’m checking Aida’s math homework.” Yuuri sighed and sent the notification.

“So, you’ve been finagled into checking homework again?”

“Ugh, _yes,_ and it’s wack,” Khoudia complained. “I did not graduate high school just to check someone else’s homework. Not for free, at least.”

“You wouldn’t even do it if your mom paid you.”

“…Okay, true,” Khoudia said. “I don’t think I’d do it if _anyone_ paid me. Not for all the tea in China.”

“Did –”

“Yes,” Khoudia said. “I know.”

“Have I told you?”

“Yes,” Khoudia said. She sighed and looked at the next page. She sucked her teeth. “This girl got dyscalculia, I swear. I’m getting her a Texas for her birthday.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her math is so wrong,” Khoudia said. “Like, I’m no math major, but it just looks wrong.”

“Do you have your calculator?” Khoudia reached behind the lamp and showed it to Yuuri. “Are you using it?”

“I shouldn’t need a calculator to do an 11-year-old’s homework. I’m 22.”

“Okay, fair, but you barely pass math.”

“College-level math.”

“Khoudia…” Khoudia looked up from her scratch paper and at Yuuri. “Just use the calculator.”

“No.”

“So you’re just going to have Aida get math problems wrong because of your pride?”

“…Yes.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “So, what happened on Saturday?” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “Phichit texted me at 5am about you. I was going to text back, but by the time I properly woke up, you were already home, and he told me not to worry about it.”

“Oh, I had just gone out.” Khoudia looked at Yuuri. “What?”

“You don’t have to tell me everything, but I want you to know that you’re probably wrong for it,” Khoudia said. “So, that’s what you told Phichit?”

“And Victor.” Khoudia deadpanned. “…Go ahead. Lay it on me.”

“Dumb bitch,” Khoudia said. “If there’s one person you don’t lie to, it’s Victor. It’s a lot harder to get back into a partner’s graces for dishonesty than a friend… depending on what it is and if it lands you in Judge Millian’s court.”

“Watching courtroom dramas with Mama Awa again?”

“I actually like courtroom dramas – as long as they’re not Judge Judy. Haughty bitch.” Yuuri chuckled. “So yeah, I’ve been watching Christina Millian with Mama when I’m not in class. You should do it with us sometime.”

“I would if I could just get out and away from everyone to do it.”

“I mean, you already walk out of the crib and stay out until the bright and early hours so you could find the time,” Khoudia absently said. Yuuri looked at her. “I said what I said. You could find time; you’re just a sometimey bitch.”

“Hey… you can’t tell time.”

“And you’re a fake bitch. Neither of us are coming out on top here.” Yuuri sighed and nodded. They couldn’t disagree with that. It was a losing, neurodivergent battle, and no one was getting the better of the other.

“Fair,” Yuuri said. Their phone buzzed and pinged. Yuuri rubbed their eyes; it was Mari. “Hey, my sister just told me to call her, so I’ll call you back.”

“You better because I need someone to talk to me while I check homework,” Khoudia said. “Next, I have to do Malik’s Spanish.”

“You don’t know Spanish,” Yuuri said.

“Señor Google knows Spanish.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia in horror.

“Bi–”

“–Next, I’m doing Yande’s social studies.”

“You weren’t even born here.” Khoudia shushed Yuuri. “I mean… you weren’t,” they whispered.

“But as far as everyone else knows, I was born here. We went over this, remember?” Khoudia whispered. “I was born here. I’ve always lived here. I’m so American the most I’ve ‘left the country’ is to go to Puerto Rico.”

“But you’ve never been to Puerto Rico. Your passport is stamped to several overseas countries, including Senegal. Your last name is ‘Bâ Sène.’ You speak Serer and Wolo–”

“Call your sister, please,” Khoudia said. “Just… just hang up and call your sister. Call me back when you’re done.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too, my firebug,” Khoudia said. She blew Yuuri a kiss, and they smiled.

> Victor: I wish I was in bed.
> 
> : Nothing’s stopping you.
> 
> Victor: You’re not here.
> 
> : Can you pick whether or not you’re upset with me? Because I’m getting sick of the vacillation.
> 
> Victor: I’m slightly hurt by you being weird with me earlier, but I’m nowhere near upset by it. I knew getting into this relationship that there was going to be some weirdness, so I was emotionally prepared for whatever might come.
> 
> Victor: I mean, shit, you could’ve told someone where you were going, you could not have gone out at all, but once I had all the materials so to speak and the time to process it I wasn’t as fazed.
> 
> Victor: So can I go back to giving you all of my affection?

Yuuri sighed.

> : I mean sure, I guess…
> 
> Victor: If you don’t want to talk to me right now, just say so.

Yuuri went to Mari’s text and FaceTimed her. She picked up after a long ring. “ _I didn’t think you’d call_ ,” Mari said.

“ _I need a reason not to answer my boyfriend’s texts for a while_ ,” Yuuri said.

“ _Huh? Boyfriend?_ ”

“ _The person I was on a date with. He’s my boyfriend._ ”

“ _So soon?_ ”

“ _Yes, Mari,_ ” Yuuri said with a sigh.

“ _I’m not trying to rain on your parade, but didn’t you two meet in like October?_ ”

“ _September, but point taken._ ”

“ _How did he end up being your boyfriend so soon?_ _You had just met in September.”_

_“He moves fast.”_

_“You_ **_do_ ** _know you can say ‘no,’ right?”_

_“I want this, though…”_ Mari sighed. _“So, I need an excuse not to talk to my boyfriend for a bit.”_

“ _If you need excuses not to talk to your boyfriend, he probably shouldn’t be your boyfriend,_ ” Mari said. Yuuri looked at her. “ _So, what made you not want to talk to him now?_ ”

“ _He just asked if I want him to talk to me right now._ ”

“ _He has to ask if it’s okay to talk to you?_ ” Yuuri nodded. “ _Do I_ ** _want_** _to know?”_

_“I mean, does it make a difference if you do or don’t?_ ” Mari shrugged. “ _We had two fights kind of close to each other, and I told him to pick whether or not he wants to be nice to me._ ”

“ _If you have to a–_ ”

“ _I know, but it’s related to a wider situation_ ,” Yuuri explained.

“ _Which would be?_ ” Yuuri shrugged. Mari looked at them. “ _Do you need me to come set your life straight?_ ”

“ _I mean… it’d be nice…_ ” Yuuri murmured. “ _I don’t have much space, but I might be able to ask Phichit to migrate to the living room while you get my life in order_.”

“ _Why don’t you two get a bigger apartment? You could have your room, and I can sleep on a pullout bed._ ”

“ _Rent is high in Detroit, and I can only ask Mom and Dad for so much. I don’t know if or when I can find a job that pays well to make it here. I just want to get through my final semester without drowning in water I didn’t even want to be in to begin with._ ”

“ _We’ll find a way, Yuuri. We want to support your dreams… even though they’re kind of queer and you’re kind of queer.”_

_“I know you want to, but you shouldn’t have to.”_

_“We’re family, Yuuri. You’re my little brother. I want you to do what your heart considers home, and if that’s art and dance, it’s art and dance._ ” Mari rolled over on her stomach. _“We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry your head about it.”_

“ _I don’t want to move, though…_ ”

“ _Fine_ ,” Mari said. “ _What does your boyfriend study?_ ”

“ _English._ ”

“ _Oh, he’s like me?_ ” Yuuri nodded. “ _I’m not quite sure how I feel about this. You could have shot upwards._ ”

“ _Like?_ ”

_“I don’t know. Maybe a doctor. Doctors can be hot and not depressed._ ”

“ _Doctors aren’t that attractive._ ”

“ _You sure about that?”_ Yuuri looked at Mari. “ _So, how do you feel?_ ”

“ _Well, I’m going to have to text him eventually. I should bite the bullet. It can’t be too bad, right?_ ”

“ _I was talking about Vicchan._ ”

“ _Oh!_ ” Yuuri shrugged. “ _That was some foul shit, Mari._ ” She nodded. “ _Like, extremely foul. I honestly cannot believe you decided to keep this from me for two months. What the fuck is wrong with you?_ ”

“ _Fair, all fair,_ ” Mari said. “ _You should text your boyfriend. I’m sure he’s hanging off your every word when you talk to him. He’s probably excited to hear what you have to say._ ”

“ _He probably_ ** _won’t_** _be so excited once he processes what I want to tell him,_ ” Yuuri said. “ _It’s bad._ ”

“ _You’re not breaking up with him, are you?_ ”

“ _Not yet,_ ” Yuuri said. They lightly chuckled, but Mari just looked at them. “ _What?_ ”

“ _Yuuri, I thought you really liked this boy,_ ” Mari said. “ _If you don’t even like him enough to call him your boyfriend for longer than a month, why are you with him?_ ”

“ _Oh, trust me, I adore him. But I fear that we might not last long, and I want to rip the Band-Aid off already._ ”

“ _So, you should just ride it out and let the chips fall where they may_.” Yuuri looked at her. “ _It’s a new experience for you. Experience it and let everything happen. Don’t worry about the future; your time is now._ ” Yuuri made a face. “Love this boy, Yuuri.”

“ _I… I think I want to text him now._ ”

“ _Anything to get away from me being a big sister?_ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” Yuuri said. Mari chuckled. “ _Alright. I’ll text him now and call my friend back._ ”

“ _Which friend? Phichit go home to visit family_?”

“ _No, he’s in the living room. Khoudia._ ” Mari looked at Yuuri. “ _Have I not told you about Khoudia?_ ”

“ _Jog my memory. I’m getting old._ ”

“ _Senegalese girl. Diabetic. Figure skater._ ” Mari snapped. “ _There we go. I have to call her back._ ”

“ _Text Victor on your computer then._ ” Yuuri nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Mari smiled. Yuuri signed heart to Mari; Mari smiled even harder.

“Hang up! Go do it!” Yuuri chuckled and ended the call. They propped their phone up between their desk and their laptop and called Khoudia. Khoudia picked up and accepted; she had pens hanging from her earrings.

“Do I _want_ to know?”

“It makes no difference if you do or don’t,” Khoudia said.

“Still grading homework?” Khoudia nodded, her pens hitting each other as she moved her head. “Spanish?” Khoudia shook her head.

“His Spanish looked right, so I didn’t check it.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “He should’ve taken French.”

“You wouldn’t have even graded his French.”

“I would have.”

“You don’t even do your French homework.”

“I _do_ ; I just don’t go to class. Attendance doesn’t matter that much anyway.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Yuuri said. “That’s not the point. Check Malik’s homework.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. She closed Yande’s workbook and put it on the windowsill. She made a face.

“Don’t _you_ speak Spanish?” Khoudia asked.

“…Yes?” Khoudia smirked. “Only if you pay me.”

“Okay,” Khoudia said. “Let me see how much I have.”

“Bitch, you won silver twice, you have enough.” Khoudia looked at Yuuri. “Don’t look at me. You know you do.”

“Figure out how much you want to charge and start the PayPal _l'reçu_ ,” Khoudia said.

“How many pages is his homework?”

“It’s a five-page packet and two paragraphs.”

“Oh, you _really_ want to pay me,” Yuuri said. “Tell Malik to email the paragraphs to you and forward them to me. And, if he doesn’t already, have the prompts in the document.”

“Oh, you’re professional,” Khoudia commended. “Okay. I’ll do that.” Khoudia grabbed her phone and started to text Malik.

“On the Mac?”

“No, my iPad,” Khoudia said with a chuckle. “It’s propped up.” Yuuri nodded. They opened Messages and went to Victor.

> : We can talk.
> 
> Victor: I’m glad. I love you.
> 
> : I love you, too.
> 
> Victor: Ah, I wonder what trouble we’ll get into when we get to Marseille.
> 
> : I hope we never have to find out.
> 
> Victor: I mean, trouble together.
> 
> : Oh… well, then we’ll just have to see when we get there.
> 
> Victor: You’re no good at this.

“Working on the statement?”

“Talking to Victor.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” Khoudia snapped her fingers. “Can you put my banquet outfit in your suitcase? My dad wants to check my suitcase before we go.” Yuuri made a face. “I… I don’t fucking know, okay.”

“Yeah, sure I’ll hold onto it,” Yuuri said.

“Great, I’ll bring it over tomorrow,” Khoudia said. “So, what are you talking to Victor about?”

“I think he’s trying to hit on me, but I can’t tell.”

“He probably is,” Khoudia said. “You’re _super_ bad at this flirting thing.”

“We know.”

“How did Victor even get through to you? It’s amazing you two are – like – together.”

“He’s _really_ persistent… Like, he would not stop talking to me, trying to get my attention, trying to get me to give him my attention. And now that we’re together, he straight-up demands it.”

“And comes over whenever he feels like it.”

“Yes! That too!”

“He loves you, Yuuri. He’s like a cat with the temperament of a dog.” Yuuri shrugged. “It’s a good thing. Cherish it.” Yuuri made a face. “Are you two doing anything together during the Grand Prix?”

“Probably?” Yuuri said. “I mean, I think we’re going to do something.” Khoudia sighed. “I mean… he _is_ my boyfriend. He’ll probably ask to see me a few times throughout it.”

“Yuuri, you should sound more enthusiastic about seeing your boyfriend during one of the biggest moments of your career,” Khoudia said. “He’s there, and he’s going to want to be with you during everything. Be happy about that.”

“I mean, I guess…”

“He could be _Jason_ ,” Khoudia said. “Remember that when you snub him.” Yuuri sighed. “Also, remember I’m meeting him before you two decide to rip each other’s clothes off.”

“We weren’t going to do that.”

“You’ve done it at least twice before,” Khoudia said as she looked at her nails. “Whether or not you two fuck is immaterial to me meeting him before you do.” Khoudia checked her phone. “Alright, Malik scanned his homework packet and sent me his paragraphs.”

“Alright, I’ll send the invoice,” Yuuri said. They finished up the service descriptions for Khoudia and opened Messages again.

> : I never claimed to be good at… whatever this is.
> 
> Victor: It’d be nice if you were better, but I like it when you’re like this with me. And I like to think that I’m the only one who gets to experience the look on your face when I say something, and you need time to process it.
> 
> : Oh?
> 
> Victor: And I hope I get to see that look soon so I can kiss you.
> 
> : Oh.
> 
> Victor: What?

“Okay, I sent it,” Khoudia said. Yuuri opened Mail and waited for the email. “So, why _do_ you know Spanish?”

“I went to a cookout with Yohani to pose as her boyfriend and her abuela was talking about me, and I wanted to know what she was saying,” Yuuri said.

“So, you taught yourself Spanish?”

“Yeah, I’m not looking goofy like that ever again.” Khoudia snorted. “You should learn Spanish.”

“Can’t. No reason to.”

“You mean checking your brother’s Spanish homework isn’t a reason to?”

“No,” Khoudia said. “I already speak six languages. Why should I need a seventh?”

“You _should_ learn a seventh. Flex on monolingual white people.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “I’m thinking about asking Victor to teach me Russian so that I can learn a sixth.”

“Why not learn Cantonese or kreyòl ayisyen?” Khoudia asked. “Maybe learn Yoruba, too. Just suggestions.”

“Maybe,” Yuuri said. “I decide what language I want to learn based on necessity, so if there’s ever a situation in which I need to learn Cantonese, Kreyòl, or Yoruba, I’ll learn it.”

“Then I hope you experience something that makes you want to learn it,” Khoudia said. “However, in Yoruba’s case, I think learning an African language is reason enough.”

“What use is there in me learning Yoruba?” Yuuri asked. Their inbox pinged. “I think that’s the email.” Yuuri skimmed the message Khoudia had sent along with it and downloaded the attachments.

> : Nothing, just…
> 
> Victor: What?
> 
> : Do you love me?
> 
> Victor: Yuuri
> 
> Victor: _three dotty bois_

Yuuri started to skim the packet and the paragraphs. They rolled their eyes and sighed; this was going to be bad. “Yande is so good at social studies.”

“Your mother raised good socialists.” Khoudia chuckled. Phichit knocked on the door and cleared his throat. “Yes?” Yuuri said to Phichit.

“I’m making _pad krapow gai_. Do you want some?”

“Sure, if you want,” Yuuri said. Phichit nodded.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Hey, bitch,” Khoudia said.

“Oh, hey Khoudia,” Phichit said. His eyes darted around the room. “I’m… going to get started on dinner. You can resume doing whatever you were doing.” Yuuri nodded. Khoudia took a sip of the offscreen can of Cherry Coke.

“So, he’s mad?” Yuuri nodded. “Not so mad he’s still cooking for you, though.”

“Still mad, though.” Khoudia shrugged. “Living here is going to become hell.”

“Why don’t you just try to talk to him?” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “You two are best friends; you do _everything_ together. Come on, talk to him. One of you has to be the bigger vagina and pop your pussy.”

“Aren’t your _little_ _sisters_ in the room?”

“Nah, ballet,” Khoudia said with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, talk to him. It can’t be _that_ bad.” Yuuri looked at her. “And, if it is, I’ll handle it.”

“Even though like fourteen people would probably agree that I am in the wrong.”

“This is kind of an extreme reaction for going to see Olivia, and this is coming from the person who hates the bitch the most,” Khoudia said. “Unless Phichit is perceiving something that I’m missing.” Yuuri shook their head. “Then this is an extreme reaction. Yeah, you should have texted, but you’re also grown, so if you want to stay out all night, you can.” Khoudia took a sip of her Cherry Coke. “Does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

“So? How’s my brother’s Spanish?”

“Too much French; not enough Spanish,” Yuuri said. “How is Malik even passing?”

“I think he just cheats off of this Chilean girl in his class,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at her in shock. “I told him that he should just let me find one of my friends to tutor him, but he’s fucking lazy and only interested in playing ball and PS4.”

“I mean… at least it’s not getting girls pregnant.”

“Oh, thank God for that,” Khoudia said. “I couldn’t imagine being an auntie for Amadou or Malik. They’re too young.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Or Adeola or Fatou, truth be told…” Khoudia waved her hand. “Did I tell you that Amadou has a date?”

“No? When was this?”

“He’s going on Saturday,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded. “He hasn’t mentioned anything at _all_ about this person. Why don’t you think he doesn’t want to tell us?”

“It might be a guy,” Yuuri said. Khoudia gasped and grinned. “I can’t necessarily prove it, but it just might be a guy.”

“Or…” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “A _trans_ guy.” Khoudia grinned harder. “Shit, the way he’s keeping this secret, it better be a trans guy.”

“Khoudia!” Amadou yelled.

“Shit!” Khoudia cussed. She rubbed her face and mentally prepared herself to talk to her brother. “Yeah, baby?”

“Can you check my science homework?” Khoudia deadpanned and sighed.

“…Sure, kid. Bring it on over.” Khoudia looked at Yuuri and shook her head.

“Why do they come to you for their homework?” Yuuri asked. “Didn’t Adeola and Fatou go to school?”

“Associate’s, but yes,” Khoudia said. “I don’t get it either. Back in my day, when you were wrong, you were wrong.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. Amadou’s tall self-entered the room. “Hey, Doudou.” Amadou snapped his fingers at Khoudia. He looked over at her desk.

“Hey Yuuri,” Amadou said, his voice slightly cracking. “How’s things?”

“Could be better.” Amadou chuckled. “What’s going on with you, kid? You look taller compared to the last time I’ve seen you.”

“Well, it _has_ been a few months since you’ve been over,” Amadou said. “Wanna play a game when it gets nice out?”

“Name the time and the place,” Yuuri told him. Amadou smiled. “Hey, don’t focus on me. You have homework.” Amadou snapped and nodded.

“Right,” Amadou said. “My teacher assigned a page from my chemistry review book, and I don’t know if I got the formula for moles right.”

“Yeah, sure,” Khoudia said. “Just put it on my bed.” Amadou put his review book on Khoudia’s bed. He sat down at the foot of her bed and laid down. “So, your date’s this Saturday, right?”

“Yeah,” Amadou said.

“You haven’t told me anything about them, Doudou,” Khoudia said. She prodded her brother’s leg with her foot. “Tell me something.”

“Their name is Amare,” Amadou said. “He’s in my music class.” Khoudia looked at Yuuri and grinned. “I’m really happy.”

“And I’m happy for you, baby,” Khoudia said. “Is Dad going to get Malik from the football game?”

“Yeah.” Amadou rolled over. “Mom took Aida and Yande to ballet. Adeola’s with her fiancé. Fatou’s asleep. So it’s just us.” Khoudia chuckled. “I don’t think Mom started dinner yet. Do you want to order pizza?” Khoudia looked at Amadou.

“…Hell yeah,” Khoudia said. “You know the order.”

“Cheese and ‘e _th_ tra chee _th_ e,’” Amadou mocked. “I swear to God if I hear Yande ask for extra cheese one more time, I’m sending her to Yarra.”

“Hey, she’s eight,” Khoudia said. “I’ll send _you_ to Yarra if you try to ship her off to Senegal.” Khoudia sucked her teeth. “Send that lil baby off to Senegal for wanting extra cheese on her pizza, Doudou I should beat your ass.”

“She needs her teeth fixed!”

“She’s still losing them!” Yuuri chuckled. “Yande’s still growing. Let her ask for her extra cheese slice in peace.” Amadou rolled his eyes. “Remember, whenever you dunk on Yande for her lisp and her two missing teeth that you had a stammer.”

“…No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” Amadou looked at Khoudia. Khoudia crossed her legs and looked at Amadou. Amadou got up and left the room; Yuuri broke out in laughter. “I had to put him in his place! He can’t dunk on Yande for her cute little lisp!”

“Yande’s lisp _is_ cute,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t know, that boy just hates everything,” Khoudia said with a shake of the head and the flick of the wrist. “Anyway, back to homework. How’s Malik coming along?”

“The Spanish words he does know need accents, and he isn’t placing any of the accents.”

“That bad?” Yuuri nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Khoudia said.

“He should probably get a tutor, so he doesn’t have to cheat off of people in class,” Yuuri said. “And so his written Spanish can improve past… this.”

“I mean, I’ll talk to him about it, but he’s kind of… he’s at that tender stage of adolescence where he gets embarrassed by everything and acts nonchalantly towards school,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded. “So I can talk, but I don’t know how much I’ll be able to get to him, you see?” Yuuri nodded. “Teenage boys, you know?”

“Yeah… Good thing I never was one. Teenage boys are disasters.”

“They _are_ ,” Khoudia said. “And teenage girls, too? Forget it.”

“ _Honestly_ ,” Yuuri said. Khoudia and Yuuri looked at each other and giggled.

“Yuuri! Dinner’s ready!” Phichit yelled. Khoudia grinned.

“Knock ‘em dead, Kat-sucky,” Khoudia said. Yuuri shrugged. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, my annoying younger sister.”

“Okay, you can _go_ now,” Khoudia said. She giggled.

“Have fun eating cheese and extra cheese pizza,” Yuuri said. Khoudia smiled. “And give Aida and Yande a kiss for me.” Yuuri nodded.

“Always and forever. Now go talk to that boy in the living room.” Khoudia ended the call. Yuuri sighed and looked at the door.

“I guess… I guess I’ll go talk to him,” Yuuri said. They looked at Messages and sighed, not knowing if they could work up the brave to talk to Victor as well, but they supposed that they could start with the Thai guy in the living room.

#


	51. Sweet Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an intervention

#

**(Tuesday, 8 December 2015 – 12:45pm** **, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was on their phone, waiting for Luzia to come out for them. The text from Victor was still sitting there, and even thinking about its existence was causing them duress. If they delete the chat now, Luzia is going to say that they’re trying to avoid talking to Victor again. If they delete the conversation after session, Luzia could still say that they’re trying to avoid having to speak to Victor again. If Yuuri flat out stops going to campus and dips out on going to the Grand Prix, Luzia is going to say that Yuuri is taking their avoidance to new levels and that they need to stop. Yuuri sighed and looked at the text from the menu; they felt a pang of guilt hit them. They went to Olivia’s chat and looked at it; she hasn’t texted them since Saturday. Yuuri was tempted to text her and ask to see her someday after the Grand Prix, but they didn’t want this next outing/smoke session to be a repeat of the last ones. They don’t want to relive Saturday’s guilt or depression arousal.

But they also don’t want to relive Monday’s depression arousal or guilt.

They don’t want to feel guilt or arousal ever again.

Yuuri was spaced out, and they didn’t notice Luzia’s hand in their face. “Yuuri? Yuuri?” She lightly shook them. When they snapped out of it, they looked up at Luzia. Her hair was in cornrows, and she was wearing a dark blue, fitted turtleneck. “You spaced out there, _meu amorzinho_ (my little love),” she said. “Come on. Let’s talk in my office.” She patted their back tenderly and smiled at them. Yuuri got up and followed Luzia to her office; they took their usual spot and looked at her desk. “So, what’s going on?” Luzia folded her hands and smiled. “I want to hear all about the thing and your birthday.”

“You remembered,” Yuuri whispered. She nodded and smiled.

“And, before I forget,” Luzia said. She opened her desk and looked at Yuuri. “Close your eyes and cover them.” Yuuri nodded and did as Luzia told them. “Open.” There was a card and a Lacta bar in front of them. “Happy Birthday, Yuuri.” Luzia grinned. Yuuri smiled and wiped their eyes. “Are you crying?”

“You remembered,” Yuuri repeated. Luzia smiled. Yuuri put their card and gift in their bookbag and looked at their fingers.

“Now, tell me about the Rostelecom Cup,” she said. “I remembered what it’s called.” She gave Yuuri finger guns. They chuckled.

“It went great. I placed first.” Luzia clapped her hands and grinned. Yuuri smiled. “Khoudia was there. She placed second in her section.” Luzia nodded. “Oh, oh, Victor knows I’m a skater now.”

“And? How’d that happen?”

“His friend, Christophe, told him.” Luzia made a face. “He knew before Victor and accidentally let slip that I’m a skater.” Luzia nodded.

“How did Victor react?”

“He was hurt that I didn’t tell him sooner. After that, he was… I don’t know?” Yuuri shrugged. “When he saw me on Wednesday, he was excited to see me. It was like nothing had ever happened. I don’t get it.” Yuuri put their face on Luzia’s desk. “I don’t get him. How could he be so perfect? How did I get someone so amazing?”

“No one is perfect, Yuuri, remember that. Victor is just as flawed as you are. He has insecurities and shortcomings just like you.” Yuuri shrugged.

“He’s an angel, and I’ve been so terrible to him lately.” Yuuri closed their eyes. “I need to break up with him.”

“Do not do that,” Luzia said. “Because what are you doing when you do that?”

“Avoiding,” Yuuri said.

“Right,” Luzia said. “Now, tell me more about the Cup.”

“Um,” Yuuri started, “I had a manic episode, and I was hallucinating for the duration of the event.” Luzia nodded. “I’m sure I’m hallucinating right now. One of the voices sounds like my grandfather, and he’s not being very kind.” Luzia nodded. 

“And what did you do to weather the storm of your mania?” Luzia asked. She was playing with her wedding ring now.

“I was with Khoudia the entire time. She wouldn’t let me do anything too outrageous.” Yuuri bit their lip. “Except for passively allowing me to buy a bunch of things I don’t need. She let me do that.”

“You smooth-talked her, didn’t you?” Yuuri shrugged. “What did you buy?” Yuuri listed everything they purchased. Luzia was unamused. “Jesus Christ, Yuuri.” Yuuri started to chuckle. “This isn’t funny. You could’ve bought something even worse.”

“I don’t think it gets any worse than outrageously expensive fountain pens, to be honest.”

“What happened after that?”

“When Phichit found out, he took my cards.” Luzia nodded. “I couldn’t be as mad as I would’ve initially. I was hallucinating then, too.” Luzia nodded. She bit her lip. “What is Noêmia going to do?”

“Probably increase your medicines,” Luzia said. “We should explore _why_ you have an uptick in hallucinations, but first: What else happened?”

“With Phichit or something else?”

“Either one,” she said.

“Vicchan died.” Luzia brought her hand to her mouth. Yuuri shrugged. “My sister didn’t tell me until recently. According to her, he’s been dead since October.” Luzia reached over and touched Yuuri’s hand. “I didn’t go out with Victor on Friday. On Saturday, I went over to Olivia’s.”

“Olivia?”

Yuuri nodded. “She’s back. She’s back, we went out to dinner, and we almost slept together.” Luzia remained silent. “The sleeping part almost happened on Saturday. Our dinner was on Wednesday.”

“Why did you try to sleep with her?”

“Well, she initially came on to me on Wednesday. It felt weird. On Saturday, I was just sad, and I needed to see someone.” Luzia remained silent. “My heart is a whore, but, like, despite my heart being a whore, I didn’t _want_ to sleep with her. I couldn’t be so terrible to Victor.” Yuuri closed their eyes again. “I don’t know why I was going to her, but I couldn’t see Victor, and I slighted him. I feel like he hates me now.” 

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“How do you know?” Yuuri asked. Luzia sighed. “I didn’t go to the museum with him. We kind of fought on Monday. I won’t respond to his texts. I wouldn’t be surprised if he _does_ break up with me.”

“He won’t do that,” Luzia said. Yuuri squinted.

“How are you so sure?”

“You’re catastrophizing,” Luzia said. An uncomfortable silence was between them. “Also, you can’t be sure what Victor is thinking. I’m sure he misses you very much right now.” Yuuri felt something tremble in their chest. “I’m going to assign you some homework: Text Victor and _talk_ to him.” Yuuri nodded in resignation. “Now, let’s discuss these hallucinations,” Luzia said. “Sit up. I want to see _do meu anjo_ lovely face.” She patted Yuuri’s head, and Yuuri slowly forced themselves up. Session was going to be more of a wreck today; they don’t know what else to tell Luzia about these nuisances of theirs that she hasn’t already heard. 

#

**(Tuesday, 8 December 2015 –** **4:32pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri laid on the sofa face down. Their sessions were dumpster fires if they’ve ever seen them. Not only did Noêmia upbraid them for being inconsistent with their medicine, but she also _increased_ their medication and made install an app to remind them to take their medication. She also wants to put them on another antidepressant or Lithium, but Yuuri stood their ground and insisted on that to happen after the Grand Prix. Noêmia was hesitant to wait so long because she was worried, but Yuuri emphasized that they would be fine until after. When Luzia found out that Yuuri hadn’t been taking their medicine consistently, she had to scold them. They got admonished twice in one day and, when Phichit comes home, they’re going to get scolded some more. Everyone’s coming at their neck today.

Yuuri sighed and looked at their phone. They had another text from Victor. Luzia told them to text Victor back, but Yuuri couldn’t will themselves to do it. They would much rather text Olivia and go through the national embarrassment which was Saturday ten times over than respond to Victor. “But I miss him,” Yuuri thought. Yuuri got up and went to get their journal. They figured that they could watch cartoons and write until Phichit comes home.

But then Yuuri was consumed with a need to check their stupid phone. They wanted to know what Victor was saying, but not enough to check their messages.

> Khoudia: I’m on my way over with my fit right now.
> 
> : Okay. If I don’t answer the door right away, just break in.
> 
> Khoudia: Good talks, good talks. See you in a bit, ma raison.
> 
> : ((heart emoji))

Yuuri sighed. Knowing Khoudia, it will probably take her a bit to get to the apartment, and Yuuri could afford a well-deserved nap between then and her arrival.

¡Sike, bitch! Khoudia was banging on the door within fifteen minutes. “Horatio!” Khoudia yelled as she banged on the door. Yuuri scrambled to their feet and opened the door for her – just to stop her shouting.

“That doesn’t sound like ‘just break in’ to me,” Yuuri said to Khoudia after she came in and took off her shoes. “I honestly didn’t expect you to come so soon.”

“I was already dressed, so I just came over,” Khoudia said. “My mom is taking Aida to the orthodontist because she might need braces, so I didn’t have anyone to guilt-trip me into staying home.” Khoudia took off her too-big coat and hung it up. “Did you think I wasn’t going to be over soon?”

“Yes, hence why I took a nap.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Did you remember to bring your clothes?” Khoudia lifted the bag in her hand. “Thank you.” Yuuri relieved Khoudia of the bag and put it on the dinner table.

“So, what have you been doing?”

“Being depressed,” Yuuri said.

“That’s a mood,” Khoudia said. “Same as yesterday?” Yuuri nodded. “Did you talk to Phichit during dinner?” Yuuri nodded. “So? How’d it go?”

“Not quite, but at least I can walk around freely in the crib again, so I’ll take it.” Khoudia nodded. Khoudia sat on the arm of the sofa and flopped onto the seating cushions. “Excited for tomorrow?”

“Mm, yes and no,” Khoudia said. She rolled onto her front, her ass in the air and her feet barely touching the floor. “Like, yeah! Grand Prix! But also… oh no, Grand Prix.”

“You’re going to do fine,” Yuuri said. They walked around the sofa and sat by Khoudia’s head. They put their fingers in between the parts of Khoudia’s braids. “Who else can skate like you? Your style is uniquely your own, and that _has_ to appeal to the judges.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“They’re racist.” Khoudia chuckled. “Don’t you want to get comfortable?”

“I _am_ comfortable,” Khoudia said. “Did you go to therapy today?” Yuuri nodded. “How’d that go, _mamour_?”

“Terribly, but that’s just par for the course,” Yuuri said.

“What did you two talk about?”

“Olivia, Victor, the Grand Prix.” Yuuri sighed. Khoudia rolled onto her front, shimmied, and stood up straight. She sat down properly and looked at Yuuri. “Yes?” Yuuri said, their voice an inflection.

“Let’s unpack,” Khoudia said. “Have you spoken to Olivia?”

“Not since Saturday.”

“Have you spoken to Victor?”

“Not since yesterday.” Khoudia nodded.

“You should talk to him,” Khoudia said. “I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.” Yuuri shrugged. “Give me your phone.”

“…What are you going to do?” Yuuri falteringly asked.

“Prove a point. _Dímelo_.”

“So you _do_ know Spanish?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia shook her head. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Adé and Diosmari,” Khoudia said. “I try to pay attention when they talk, but I zone out, so I don’t. But I heard that.” Yuuri smiled. “Okay, phone now.” Yuuri begrudgingly handed their phone over to Khoudia. She gave it back. “Unlock it.”

“You know my passcode.”

“1225?” Yuuri sighed and nodded. Khoudia tch-tched and shook her head. “You should change that.”

“Just for everyone to know it again?”

“Okay, how about this? Pick your parents’ birthdays and not something related to Victor.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “You’re not going to do it, are you?” Yuuri shook their head and gave their phone back to Khoudia. She unlocked Yuuri’s phone and went to Messages. She made a face as she scrolled upwards to get context. “You know he was tryna fuck yesterday, right?”

“…He was?” Yuuri incredulously asked.

“Yes. Multiple times.”

“…You sure?”

“Yes, 100%.”

“Provide evidence, please,” Yuuri said.

“‘I wish I was in bed [and you’re not here]’ meaning ‘I wish you were in my bed so I can cuddle with you and slip you a lil somethin-somethin.’ That ‘somethin-somethin’ being _dick_. ‘Can I go back to giving you all my affection?’ meaning ‘I want to resume giving you this beef shtick, but you’re being difficult.’ The ‘trouble’ refers to fucking. And he’s calling that confused look you have hot, and he wants to kiss your confused ass a lot.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “He’s been trying to fuck since last night, and you just ignored his signals.”

“I’m not good at reading signals.”

“We know,” Khoudia said. “I don’t know _why_ Victor is still sending them when he knows that you can’t interpret them, but he was being super fucking obvious, baby.”

“I mean, he asked if I was autistic just _yesterday_ ,” Yuuri said. “He’s still figuring it out.”

“He’s had since September to figure it out, but okay,” Khoudia said. She put her feet in Yuuri’s lap and started to text.

“We _met_ in September.”

“Still, he’s had time to learn,” Khoudia said. “All he has to do is just stop tiptoeing around the subject and say ‘Hey, let’s have sex.’ All he has to do is wait for your yes – or no, I don’t know how you felt yesterday – and bam. Sex.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “ _Did_ you want to?”

“I mean… Kind of.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Thanks, I know,” Yuuri said. They picked up their journal and pen again and started to write.

“So how’s therapy going – in general?”

“It’s… it’s been going,” Yuuri said with a wry look on their face. “You?”

“Eh,” Khoudia said. “It kinda sucks, but free drugs or whatever.” Yuuri looked a Khoudia. She winked. Yuuri rolled her eyes. “Hey, don’t judge me, Madame Xanax.”

“Okay, Monsieur Adderall,” Yuuri said, tongue-in-cheek. The two of them chuckled. “Did you remember to give yourself your injection this morning?” Khoudia nodded and continued to text. “Can I… can I know what you’re telling my boyfriend?”

“Don’t worry about it; you’ll see what I said soon enough.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “We go to Marseille tomorrow. Excited?”

“Fuck no.”

“It won’t be _that_ bad,” Khoudia dragged. “It’s literally like every other event.”

“Except that it’s _not_ ,” Yuuri said. “There’s so much riding on this one event.”

“In defense of the Gran–”

“Khoudia, n–”

“–d Prix, Worlds, and Four Continents are more heavyweight events, and those come _after_ the GP and Japanese Nationals so…”

“I literally told you not to.” Khoudia shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t want to go to either anymore.”

“Mood, but you have to,” Khoudia said. “We all have to do things. Even if they’re not necessarily the most pleasant of things.”

“Nah, fuck that shit, homeboy. I’m not going.”

“Okay, where would you even go if you just decided to skip the Grand Prix?” Yuuri looked at Khoudia; Khoudia looked up from Yuuri’s phone. “You know there are other people in this world aside from her, right?”

“Well, if I have to hear Jordan’s mouth for longer than five seconds, I’m checking him,” Yuuri said. Khoudia started to cackle. “And if he dares tries to start a fight with Adé when I’m there, I’m _definitely_ going to check him.” Yuuri shrugged. “So I don’t know, I think staying with Adé is out of the picture.”

“What about Masa and Tal’ at?” Khoudia asked between her fits of laughter.

“I left the dorms; I’m _never_ going back.” Khoudia cackled even harder. “And it’s not like I can hide away with Victor for an entire weekend, so Olivia is honestly the only viable option I have.” Yuuri sighed and closed their journal with their pen still between the pages. Khoudia’s laughter quickly subsided when she realized something.

“You’re…”

“Yes, I really, _really_ don’t want to go,” Yuuri said. They put their feet in Khoudia’s lap. Khoudia nodded and continued to text. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I would, but I might end up agreeing with you somehow, so I’m not going to,” Khoudia said. She looked underneath Yuuri’s phone and on her lap. “You need to get a pedicure. Your toes make me sad.”

“Everything about my feet makes you sad, you pervert.” Khoudia rolled her eyes and snickered.

“Okay, domme.” Khoudia bit her lip and looked down at Yuuri’s phone. “Quick! What’s the surprise?” Yuuri looked at Khoudia and started to wiggle their fingers to think.

“Oh! I was going to read Crime and Punishment and draw something for Victor!”

“Okay, thank you,” Khoudia said. She resumed texting, her fingers flying across the touchscreen. “Is Crime and Punishment good? I’ve always wanted to read it, but, you know…” Yuuri nodded.

“It’s a thick book,” Yuuri said. “You still have Audible, right?” Khoudia nodded. “Get it on Audible. It’s really good and depressing, just long… and depressing.” Khoudia gave Yuuri a thumbs up. She grabbed her phone, unlocked it, and made a quick note in her Reminders to get it on Audible.

“What can I expect out of it?” Khoudia asked as she put her phone down on the coffee table.

“Old-timey, verbose sentences,” Yuuri said. “Oh, and nihilism, murder, and angst.”

“My four favorite things. I’m sold.” Yuuri finger gunned Khoudia. After a while, she looked up from Yuuri’s phone. “Are you just going to stare at me, you fucking weirdo?”

“Yes, you’re holding my phone.”

“I’m not going to run _off_ with it.”

“Oh, I know you’re not,” Yuuri said. “Because I will hunt you down if you do, and you won’t like it.”

“Yuuri, stop, you know I have a thing for people who can kill me during sex,” Khoudia said. “You can’t just threaten me with a good time and not deliver.”

“You won’t ever have to worry about or anticipate me delivering on that promise as long as you just stay put with my phone,” Yuuri said. Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Also… yeah, I’m just going to keep staring at you. Build a bridge; get over it.” Khoudia sucked her teeth and continued to text Victor. “Okay, what are you even saying to him at this point? What garbage are you filling him with?”

“I’m not exactly sure who you’re calling garbage here but trust me, I could be doing a lot worse to your standing with him than trying to keep you two idiots together,” Khoudia said. Yuuri locked eyes with Khoudia, one of the rare times that they make eye contact with her. “Now, do you want me to spill all the tea? Or do you want me to continue what I was doing before?”

“You mean annoying me? By all means,” Yuuri flippantly said. Khoudia looked at Yuuri.

“I’m telling him about that time y–”

“I was being sarcastic,” Yuuri said.

“Oh, really? Cause it sounded more like you being _a bitch_.”

“Says Queen Bitch,” Yuuri murmured. Khoudia smirked.

“Don’t you want to do something else?” Yuuri shrugged. “Go draw or something. Work on the surprise.”

“I don’t want to work on it right now.”

“Okay, what would you rather do then?”

“Know what you’re saying to my boyfriend.” Khoudia deadpanned.

“Get your Wacom. You’re drawing.”

“You can’t make me do that.”

“I’m telling Victor that y–”

“Fine,” Yuuri said with a roll of the eyes and exasperated sigh. They went to their desk and grabbed their Wacom’s pouch, mouse, mousepad, and laptop. They came back to the living room, and Khoudia was laying on her belly on the sofa. “Do you… do you want to come into the bedroom and lay down?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Khoudia said. “Come here. I need you to sit on me.”

“If I sit on you, I will break you,” Yuuri said.

“No, you won’t,” Khoudia said. “Sit on my back. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“ _Yes_ , now sit on my back.” Yuuri shrugged and sighed; they sat on Khoudia’s back. They put their Wacom, mouse, and mousepad by Khoudia’s head. “Much better.” Yuuri looked down at Khoudia; she looked up at them. “Don’t think you’re sitting on glass. Get comfortable.”

“Are you sure?” Khoudia deadpanned. “Okay, I guess.” Yuuri got themselves situated on Khoudia’s back. They put their mouse and mousepad on Khoudia’s shoulder blades and put their Wacom on her butt. “Don’t move, or else everything is going to fall, and I will fight you.”

“Yuuri.”

“What?”

“Stop it.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and started to unpack their Wacom. Then they looked down at Khoudia, who was still nose-deep into Yuuri’s phone and the conversation with Victor. Yuuri opened Messages and decided to read through what their unstable star friend was saying to their boyfriend.

> _[December 7, 2015, 9:45 pm]_
> 
> : Do you love me?
> 
> Victor: Yuuri
> 
> Victor: I don’t know why you need to ask. Haven’t I been obvious enough?
> 
> _[December 8, 2015, 5:26 pm]_
> 
> : I’m autistic, Victor.
> 
> Victor: I know, but surely you’re able to comprehend and feel all the love I send you every day?
> 
> Victor: Even when you make me cry (which you do and do it semi-frequently), I love you, and I just want to kiss you until the tears stop. All I ever think of doing is reading poetry to you and cuddling and just being able to look into the hematite eyes I struggle to comprehend. Being in the same room as the art is a good and overwhelming experience in and of itself, but haven’t you ever just loved the art so much that it’s consumed your waking days?
> 
> : Yes.
> 
> Victor: Then you understand then.
> 
> : Afraid I don’t.
> 
> Victor: Yuuri…
> 
> : It’s a neurodivergent brain thing. Walk me through this.
> 
> Victor: Fine.
> 
> Victor: I love you. Meeting you was like love at first sight, burning sand under my feet, and a breath of fresh air in my lungs all at once. I was prodded into action just by the thought of either you dropping the class (which meant that I would possibly never see you again because Wayne is astoundingly huge) or you just shutting me down once I finally got the guts to speak to you. I felt that you were dismissing me early on, but I kept trying anyway because I was stupid, and I had a massive crush on this guy who draws next to me during class.
> 
> : Welp ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Victor: My trying has gotten me amazingly far. I thought I would be pushing it by asking you out, but I just needed to…
> 
> : What?
> 
> Victor: I needed to do something different with you and for you to finally understand that what we did November 6th was different. And it was so. fucking. different.
> 
> : I mean, we ARE calling it our first date.
> 
> Victor: And I needed you to acknowledge and accept that that was a date and that I was head-over-heels for you from the jump. And, hopefully, you would have returned the affection I craved from you, too, and you needed it like I need you.
> 
> : You don’t need me.
> 
> Victor: Yes, I do.
> 
> : Mm, no, you don’t.
> 
> Victor: Yuuri, maybe you’re not comprehending it, so I’m going to say it like this: I prefer you; you prefer me. I love looking at you and just being around you; I would assume that you feel the same about me since we’re still together. Meeting you has changed my life so much, and it’s only been three months. If anything happened between us or to you in general, I would never be the same because you’ve made a bigger impression in my thoracic cavity than my own damn heart. I’m so in love with you. All I ever want to do at any given moment is just lay my head on your shoulder and trace circles around the flat moles on your chest. I love the weird way you think; I love your beautiful talents; I love your smile, your eyes, your eye rolls (((eye roll emoji))); I love you. If you forget anything, we talked about today, at least take my love with you.
> 
> Victor: Also, on a semi-related note, when you had mentioned the surprise to me yesterday, it made me obscenely happy that you want to put something together that you think would make me happy, and I can’t wait to receive it.
> 
> : Yeah, I want this surprise to be good for you.
> 
> Victor: If it’s you giving it to me, I’m sure I’ll love it. I love everything you do.
> 
> : I would rather you not.
> 
> Victor: Nope. That’s that. I love and adore you and (according to Chris) I even kiss and genuflect the ground you walk on. It’s going to be great. Now check your packing. I’ll text you when I’m done ((heart emoji))

Yuuri looked down at Khoudia. They were equal parts shocked and awed by how Khoudia nailed their voice and thought processes to the point that Victor didn’t openly question if it was Yuuri texting them and not some dumb kid who snatched Yuuri’s phone when it was unlocked. Yuuri looked down at Khoudia again.

“Are you done?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia nodded. “May I have my phone back?”

“Can I finish this gig in Kim Kardashian: Hollywood for you first?” Yuuri waved their hand. “Thank you.” Khoudia gleefully went back to playing Yuuri’s game. Yuuri looked over at the door once they heard the familiar sound of Phichit’s keys.

“Yuu– …What are you two doing?” Phichit asked in his indignation and oncoming waves of confusion.

“Khoudia wanted me to sit on her while she texts Victor,” Yuuri said. They shrugged and finally picked up the pen to their Wacom. “She also told me to draw while I sit on her, so here we are.”

“I’m not going to pretend to understand what neurodivergent fuck shit this is, but can you two sit on the sofa properly? I would like to sit down, too.” Yuuri and Khoudia looked at Phichit and pointed to the loveseat. “What if I don’t _want_ to sit on the loveseat?”

“Tough,” Khoudia said. Phichit deadpanned. Phichit looked at Yuuri.

“Yuuri, get up,” Phichit said. Yuuri looked at the way they were situated.

“I mean… I don’t know; I’m kind of in the butter zone right now,” Yuuri said. Phichit deadpanned. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“It’s 5pm,” Phichit said.

“Don’t care; going to bed. Goodnight.” Yuuri got off of Khoudia’s back, packed up their things, and left the living room. They carelessly put their items on their desk. Then they remembered that they didn’t have their phone. They went back into the living room and plucked their phone from Khoudia’s hands.

“Wait!” Khoudia said when Yuuri was halfway out of the living room.

“Yes?”

“Communication, hoe,” Khoudia said. “Also, can you iron my outfit when you eventually wake up?”

“Sure,” Yuuri said. They entered the bedroom for the final time tonight and got into bed, thinking of how their other best friend salvaged their relationship from the ashes and how they could get out of having to spread the ashes all around.

#


	52. Light that We Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the Grand Prix and no one's ready.

#

**(Wednesday, 9 December 2015 –** **5:20am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Khoudia made it home at 7pm. Her mother had called because she wanted to fix something on her _abaya_. Khoudia mentioned that the abaya belonged to Adeola or Fatoumatta and that she hates it, but she also couldn't whip something out of her secret wardrobe and tell her parents what she's actually going to wear. She also wanted to get home and get some sleep to look rested when they reached Marseilles. Yuuri’s been intermittently sleeping since they had exited the living room. When they were awake, they spent time putting the final details on their packing and kind of-sort of working on the self-portrait Victor wants to see. Phichit and Celestino had upbraided Yuuri for not wanting to go to the Grand Prix through text while they were sleeping; Celestino had told Phichit that he has to come with Yuuri to the airport. Phichit wasn’t pleased by either of these things, and he would rather _not_ , but he must, and he doesn’t like any of it.

Right now, Yuuri was in the steamy bathroom, taking in the warmth. Phichit was in the kitchen making breakfast, and he offered to make Yuuri oatmeal. Usually, Phichit isn’t up this early, but today was an exception. They had to make sure that Yuuri gets themselves to the airport, and they felt that the best way to do that was to come with them there. Yuuri insisted that it was unnecessary for Phichit to bend himself backward, but Khoudia said that if Phichit _didn’t_ do this that Yuuri would go to Olivia’s and chill there. Yuuri was salty, but they also knew that Khoudia wasn't wrong. If it weren't for being strong-armed and browbeaten into it, they probably would’ve ditched and stayed with Olivia for the duration of the Grand Prix. So Yuuri was in the bathroom, washing their face under the stream of hot water.

“Yuuri?” Phichit said as they knocked on the door. “Oh my God, it’s hot in here.” Oh, so he was announcing his entrance. Yuuri stopped washing their face to give Phichit their undivided attention. “I’m making your oatmeal now. How many packs do you want?”

“One,” Yuuri said.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Yes,” they said.

“Are you going to be out of the shower soon?”

“Give me five minutes,” Yuuri said. Phichit acknowledged Yuuri’s statement and left the bathroom. Yuuri peeked from behind the shower curtain; he didn’t completely close the door. Yuuri sucked their teeth and started to wash the soap off of their face. They were getting out soon anyway.

When Yuuri got out of the shower, the bathroom was less warm and less steamy than when Phichit had entered. It was still warm enough for Yuuri to dry off in, though. Phichit barged in when Yuuri was busy drying behind their ears.

“Your oatmeal is ready.” Yuuri nodded. Phichit left the bathroom as quickly as he entered. Yuuri started to dry their neck and upper back. Yuuri was more anxious than usual before an event, and they couldn’t pinpoint why. Like Khoudia said, this event was, for the most part, like other ISU Grand Prix series events. They would go; they would skate; they would get their scores; they would cry. Nothing set it apart from the other events. Coach Cialini would probably say that this Grand Prix is the head of everything Yuuri had worked for – that this is what all of their practice had led them to – but that didn’t feel right to Yuuri. They thought that it was because they were going to be there with Khoudia, but that didn’t feel right, either. They have done events with Khoudia in the past, and none of them felt like this. Maybe it felt different because they flat out don’t want to go to the Grand Prix anymore.

Yes, that had to be it.

Yuuri quickly went into the bedroom and put on their underwear and layers. When they stepped out, Phichit was already eating his oatmeal. “That took you more than five minutes,” Phichit said between spoons.

“I had to dry off and put something on.” Phichit shrugged. “So you can shrug, but I can’t?” Yuuri asked as they sat down.

“The difference between _my_ shrugging and _your_ shrugging is that I shrug because I don’t know the answer. You shrug because you don’t feel like answering the question.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and looked at the oatmeal dubiously. “Is something the matter?” Yuuri shook their head and continued to stare at the oatmeal. They stirred the oatmeal in the bowl, but they couldn’t bring themselves to eat. On top of that, one of the voices is saying that the oatmeal has been compromised. Yuuri sincerely doubted that Phichit had tampered with their oatmeal, but the voice was overshadowing their rational thoughts, and that made Yuuri not want to eat their oatmeal. Phichit gingerly touched Yuuri’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Are you _sure_ I have to go to the Grand Prix?”

“You're going, and that’s that.” Yuuri shrugged and looked at their oatmeal. “Now, eat your oatmeal.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yuuri, eat your oatmeal,” Phichit repeated.

“And I told you that I’m not hungry.”

“Eat your oatmeal,” Phichit said for the final time. Yuuri put their head in their hands and kept their eyes towards the floor. “Fine. _Don’t_ eat your oatmeal.” Phichit moved Yuuri’s bowl of lukewarm oatmeal away from them. “Go get dressed.” Yuuri nodded. They sluggishly got up and went back into the room. They flopped on their bed and clothes and laid prone. Then they remembered that they should probably take their meds and a Xanax before they forget.

So Yuuri forced themselves off of their bed and clothes and went over to their pill bottles. Noêmia had increased the dosage of all of their medicines so, instead of taking 10mg of Remeron, they’re taking 20mg; and instead of taking 7.5mg of Zyprexa, they’re taking 10mg. Noêmia decided to leave the Xanax alone because she didn’t see a need to increase the dosage. Yuuri went into the kitchen with their pills in their hand and found a half-full bottle of aloe water. They opened it with their occupied hand and took their meds. Phichit was still in the living room, eating the oatmeal they laboriously made. Yuuri felt terrible for not eating what was made for them, but they also couldn’t bring themselves to eat it.

Yuuri went back into the bedroom and started to dress again. Phichit had come in to get his clothes out. “Are you showering so soon?” Yuuri murmured.

“I am,” Phichit said. “I might as well shower since I’m up.”

“You can shower later.”

“No, I might as well do it now,” Phichit said. “I might be coming back here, but I also know that I’m going to sleep in when I come back, so I might as well do it now.” Yuuri put on their shirt and fixed their hair.

“Are you going to leave once you drop me off with Ciao Ciao?”

“I don’t know,” Phichit said. He held up a pair of boxers and examined them. “He might want to have a discussion with me about you.”

"If he needs to discuss me, he can have it with me," Yuuri murmured.

“He could, but he knows that he won’t get much – if anything – out of you, so he talks to me.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and unfolded their pants. “I don’t know why he chooses me to talk to, though. I barely get anything out of you anymore.” Yuuri sat on the bed and started to put on their pants. “You don’t love me anymore.” Phichit took a tank top out of the drawer and examined that, too. Yuuri remained silent. “So, you’re just going to stay quiet?”

“Don’t take my silence for assent,” Yuuri said. They pulled their pants up and fastened them. They felt kind of loose.

“Is that all I’m going to get from you?”

“I don’t know. Did you expect more?” Phichit looked back at them. They wistfully smiled.

“I don’t know why I expected more from you. I know how you are.” Phichit turned back around and resumed picking out his clothes for the morning. “Are we meeting Khoudia at the airport?”

“Yes, but she’ll be with Mama Awa and Mr. Sène,” Yuuri said.

“Okay,” Phichit said. Yuuri sat back down and looked up at their ceiling. The ceiling could cave in right now, and Yuuri would only feel bad because Phichit had been crushed along with them. Yuuri sighed and laid back down. They could suffocate from the dust and drown in the rain.

#

**(Wednesday, 9 December 2015 –** **6:59am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri woke up to the sound of a woman screaming. It shook them so much that they damn near jumped out of bed. Phichit wasn’t in the room; he was in the living room having tea. Yuuri rubbed their eyes and rolled themselves out of bed. They stretched, grabbed their phone, and walked into the living room. Phichit was sitting down, scrolling through Instagram with a cup of tea.

“Someone’s awake,” Phichit said. “I was about to come and get you, but you’ve come to me.” Phichit finished his tea and got up. “Finish getting dressed. We have to get to the airport.” Yuuri nodded. Yuuri went over to the closet and pulled out a hoodie. “Don’t wear that. It’s dirty,” Phichit said. Yuuri held it up to examine that. “In the neck. I’ll wash it while you’re in Marseilles.” Yuuri nodded and put it back. They pulled out another hoodie and held it up for Phichit. “That one looks better. Let me smell.” Yuuri brought the hoodie to Phichit. He smelled it. “This is clean. You can wear this one.” Yuuri nodded and put it on.

“Are we taking an Uber to the airport?” Phichit stared off into the distance. “Are we?”

“I don’t know. Do you have money for an Uber?” Yuuri nodded. “Then we’ll take an Uber.”

“How are you going to get back?” Yuuri asked.

“I’ll walk or take the bus back.” Phichit went into the room for a sweater. He came back with a black and white EXO sweater and went to grab his coat. Yuuri went to put on their shoes and coat. Phichit passed Yuuri their coat, and he shrugged on his. Phichit put on his shoes and stood triumphantly. Yuuri was reaching for their keys and the doorknob. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Phichit asked. Yuuri looked around. “Your bags, you numpty.” He laughed. Yuuri went back into the room and brought their bags out one by one.

“Is that everything?”

“I don’t know. You did the packing,” Phichit said. Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Do you have everything?”

“I don’t know; we’ll see when I get to Marseilles,” Yuuri said. Their phone started to ring. Yuuri showed their phone to Phichit. “I got this,” Phichit answered the phone and put it on speaker. “Yeah?”

“Where is Yuuri?” Coach Cialdini asked.

“They’re right here,” Phichit said. “We’re getting ready to leave right now.”

“Yuuri’s finally going to be on time for once,” Coach Cialini said with relief.

“Rude,” Yuuri murmured.

“Now, I just have to wait for Khoudia and her parents.” Coach Cialdini sighed. “I honestly don’t know if they’re going to be on time. I called Khoudia, but she didn’t pick up.”

“Did you try calling again?” Phichit asked.

“I’ll call again. I’ll leave you two to get here.”

“Alright, Ciao Ciao. See you soon!” Phichit ended the call and gave Yuuri their phone. “Request an Uber.” Yuuri nodded and did as Phichit said. “How long?”

“Five minutes,” Yuuri said as they reached for their keys. Phichit opened the door and started to take the bags downstairs. Yuuri followed behind him with their equipment and things. Phichit was sitting on the stoop with the bag.

“Aren’t you cold?” Yuuri asked. They stood at their side with the suitcases. Phichit looked up at Yuuri. “Get up. Your butt’s going to get cold.”

“Where’s the Uber?” Yuuri took out their phone and gave it to Phichit. Phichit grabbed Yuuri’s thumb and unlocked their phone. “Two minutes.” Yuuri nodded. Phichit didn’t get up; instead, they kept sitting on the stoop.

“Your ass is going to get cold.” Phichit shrugged. He took out his phone and started to scroll through his Twitter feed. “Get up.”

“I’ll get up when the Uber comes,” Phichit said. Yuuri sucked their teeth and sat on their suitcase. Phichit looked up at them; Yuuri was focusing on the school bus across the street. They felt their phone buzz; it was Victor.

> Victor: Do you want to meet up when we get to Marseilles?
> 
> : Don’t you have to check in with your coach?
> 
> Victor: I do, but I also want to see you, солнышко
> 
> Victor: So maybe I can come to your hotel room and we can – what's the word? – Chill? Can we chill?
> 
> : Depends on if Khoudia wants to do something once we touch down.
> 
> Victor: So whether or not I get to see you depends on if your friend wants to do something?
> 
> : I wouldn’t precisely word it like that, but
> 
> : Yes.
> 
> : If Khoudia intends to do something when we touch down, I probably won’t be able to be with you like you want.

Yuuri immediately went to their messages with Khoudia.

> : Bâ
> 
> Khoudia: *Bâ Sène, but yes
> 
> : Are you planning on avoiding your parents when we get to Marseilles?
> 
> Khoudia: As much as I’d love to, no.
> 
> Khoudia: Why?
> 
> : Victor wants to see me.
> 
> Khoudia: Then why are you asking me? See him.
> 
> : No, I’m asking because I want to know if you want to do something.
> 
> Khoudia: With the wet blankets known as my parents around? Do something with your boyfriend.

Yuuri sighed and went back to their texts with Victor.

> Victor: ((eye roll emoji))
> 
> : She can’t hang so we’re doing something together.
> 
> Victor: Thank fucking God.
> 
> : ((unamused emoji))

A black car pulled up in front of the building. “Yuuri, check and see if that’s the Uber.” Yuuri went to the app. They got up to look at the license plates.

“This is it.” Yuuri went back to the stoop to grab their clothes and their skates. Phichit grabbed Yuuri’s carry-on bag and put it in the Uber. He walked around to the other side of it and got in. Yuuri closed the trunk of the Uber and got inside, internally sighing at the way Phichit chose to situate their carry-on bag.

“Yuuri?”

“That’s me,” Yuuri said. Yuuri and Phichit buckled up their seatbelts and rode to the airport.

Coach Cialdini was waiting by the terminal, sitting. “Oh, you two are here,” Coach Cialdini said. Phichit nodded. Yuuri lingered behind Phichit. “Now we have to wait for Khoudia and her parents.” Coach Cialdini checked his phone. “Khoudia said that they’re on their way, but I don’t know if she means that they’re on the road or if they’re just leaving.”

“They probably just left. Her perception of time is kind of skewed.”

“As skewed as Yuuri’s?”

“I’m right here, you two,” Yuuri said as they sat down.

“We know,” Phichit said. “And not _as_ skewed, but it’s close. We’re getting close.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Khoudia: I just sneezed.
> 
> Khoudia: Which one of y’all niggas is talking about me?

Yuuri looked at Phichit and Coach Cialdini and decided to snitch them out.

> : Phichit and Ciao Ciao.
> 
> Khoudia: What they say?
> 
> : They’re talking about how your perception of time is trash like mine
> 
> Khoudia: Smdh I am NOT that bad at time
> 
> Khoudia: Plus, time isn’t a linear concept SOOOOO
> 
> Khoudia: THEY CAN STFU GDI
> 
> Khoudia: [has sent an attachment]

Khoudia sent a selfie of her rolling her pretty brown eyes. Her mother’s shoulder and _niqab_ could be spotted on the side, and her father's shoulder could be seen, too. 

> Khoudia: [has sent a video]
> 
> Khoudia: They’re talking about leaving Adeola and Fatou in charge of the rest of my siblings.

Yuuri started to play the video. Khoudia’s parents were speaking Arabic or Wolof – Yuuri couldn’t distinguish which was which. Khoudia was making faces at her camera as her parents went on about how they wished that the rest of their children could come with them.

> Khoudia: Yuuri, is it weird that my siblings didn’t want to come and support me?
> 
> : I’m sure they would much rather prefer to support you from home.
> 
> Khoudia: Idk it’s just that Mom and Dad are coming, and they seem to feel bad about having to leave Adeola and them. Like, I feel like that I’m taking Mom and Dad away from them, you know?
> 
> : I can’t relate, sadly.
> 
> Khoudia: Right, right. Your parents have the hot spring to attend to, and they can't afford to leave to support you.
> 
> : But you know I still feel guilty about choosing to leave the hot spring to go to college in America ofc.
> 
> Khoudia: I remember. And it's still nothing to feel sorry about.
> 
> : It /will be/ something to feel bad about once I decide on if I return to Hasetsu.
> 
> Khoudia: No it won’t smdh
> 
> Khoudia: We can talk about this on the flight.
> 
> Khoudia: Rn we’re a few blocks away. Tell Ciao Ciao and Phichit that I’m coming for they ass

Yuuri looked out of the window and saw cars pass by. Then they looked back at their phone. Yuuri patted Phichit on the shoulder. “Khoudia told me to tell you two that she’s coming for y’all.”

“Why would she come for us?” Coach Cialdini asked.

“I told her that you were talking about how she’s trash at telling time.” Coach Cialdini rolled his eyes. “I’m just the messenger. Do not persecute me for the message.” Phichit sucked his teeth and took Yuuri’s unlocked phone from them. They started to scroll through the texts. Phichit sucked his teeth again and continued his conversation with Celestino. Yuuri rolled their eyes; they’ll feel Khoudia’s ire soon enough. They shrugged again and returned their attention to their phone.

> Khoudia: Now my parents are talking about what the Grand Prix is like.
> 
> Khoudia: They’re all wrong.
> 
> Khoudia: They would know IF THEY WOULD WATCH THINGS WITH ME.
> 
> Khoudia: Smdh Mom and Dad. If you would only just pay attention when I express interest in things.
> 
> : A tragedy.
> 
> Khoudia: Honestly, truly.

Yuuri looked over at Phichit and Coach Cialdini. They sighed and wished Khoudia would just magically appear next to them to have something comfortable by their side.

> Khoudia: We’re ALMOST there
> 
> Khoudia: I’m comin for that ass, Chulanont
> 
> : Phichit said that you weren’t going to do anything.
> 
> Khoudia: I hope you told him that that’s a lie
> 
> : I told him that I thought you were bluffing, too, but you weren’t.
> 
> : Then he called you an immature star and said that your parents would douse your flames of fury.
> 
> Khoudia: He must not know me.

Yuuri looked out of the window again. They saw a red car pull up, and three people that seem to be around the right height came out. Khoudia's father was tall and dark-skinned like Akon. Khoudia's mother was short and thick and also dark-skinned. She also usually wears a black _niqab_. And then there was the figure that was between the two – presumably Khoudia – that was in the back of the car, getting the suitcases out.

> Khoudia: We’re here!!!
> 
> : Oh, good. So I am seeing you correctly.
> 
> Khoudia: Don’t you have your glasses?
> 
> : I mean yeah but I still wasn’t sure

“Khoudia’s here,” Yuuri murmured.

“What was that?” Phichit asked.

“Khoudia’s here,” Yuuri repeated. They gestured towards the window. Coach Cialdini looked towards the door and started to wave his arm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get their attention,” Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri shrugged and started to deconstruct their suitcases. Khoudia fast walked over to Yuuri, Phichit, and Coach Cialdini. She hugged Yuuri tight whilst glaring at Phichit. “You made it within a reasonable time.”

“Yes, my parents went to bed very early last night,” Khoudia said. “I, however, did not. I was so excited that I wanted to shave!” Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s face. “I shaved _a lot_.” She moved her face closer to Yuuri’s. “ _A lot_.”

“Kiki, we do _not_ discuss shaving in polite company,” Mama Awa said. Yuuri hadn't seen her, and Mouhamadou approached them. 

“Yes, Mama. Sorry, Mama,” Khoudia said. She let go of Yuuri’s face and moved towards her mother. “Mama, Papa, this is my coach, Celestino Cialdini, but you can call him ‘Ciao Ciao.’” Mama Awa and Mouhamadou nodded in acknowledgment and waved at Coach Cialdini.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Bâ Sè–”

“No, just Bâ,” Mama Awa said. Coach Cialdini blinked at her. “Mouhamadou is just Mr. Sène.” Coach Cialdini’s face deadened. He seemed to be confused. Khoudia’s father held out his hand for Coach Cialdini to shake; he tentatively took it and shook firmly.

“Ms. Bâ, I have a question,” Coach Cialdini asked. Khoudia’s mother nodded. “Do you ever take, uh, that off?” She pointed to her _niqab_. “Yes, that.”

“Never. Not even when I am sleeping,” she said. “My children have never seen my face nor has my husband. Mouhamadou is just lucky that all of our children were born beautiful.” Coach Cialdini blinked.

“Are you –”

“No, she’s _not_ serious,” Khoudia said. Coach Cialdini blinked. He realized that this is where Khoudia must’ve gotten her sarcasm from. “Shouldn’t we get going? Don’t we have a flight to catch?”

“Right, right,” Coach Cialdini said. “Well, Phichit, get home safe. I’ll be taking Yuuri off of your hands.” Phichit nodded and dapped Khoudia’s father and Celestino. Phichit hugged Mama Awa. He left without saying anything to Yuuri or Khoudia; Awa, Celestino, and Mouhamadou looked at the situation wryly. Khoudia poked her tongue in her cheek and took out her phone.

> Khoudia: We’re discussing what just happened as soon as we’re alone.
> 
> : That’s wildly unnecessary, but whatever you want, mamita.

“We should get going,” Celestino said. Awa and Mouhamdou followed behind Celestino; Yuuri and Khoudia trailed behind them.

“Now or later?” Yuuri asked Khoudia.

“N–”

“Yuuri! Khoudia!” Mama Awa yelled out. Khoudia sighed. She grabbed Yuuri’s wrist and pulled them and their bags towards the baggage check-in.

Phichit quickly pulled Yuuri into a tight hug and whispered something in his ear. Yuuri smiled. “Phichit, let go.”

“I don’t want to,” Phichit whined. “I’m going to miss Yuuri so much.”

"He can call when we get to Marseilles,” Khoudia cooed, “Now let go, or else we'll miss the flight." Phichit sullenly complied. Yuuri stroked Phichit’s face.

“I’ll call. I promise,” Yuuri assured Phichit. They gave them a soft, tender look, and Phichit was satisfied. Coach Cialdini started to walk off, and Khoudia's parents followed. Khoudia lingered behind with Yuuri and Phichit.

“Kiki!” Khoudia’s father called out. Yuuri and Khoudia looked over at him. He was gesturing for Yuuri and Khoudia to follow them. Yuuri gave Phichit a final hug. Khoudia hugged Phichit and pulled Yuuri away. Phichit stood there as Yuuri and Khoudia hurried to catch up to Mama Awa, Mouhamadou, and Coach Cialdini. Yuuri felt terrible for having to leave Phichit there, looking so vulnerable, but they had a ghastly plane to catch.

#


	53. All the Love in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They at the spot.

#

**(Wednesday, 9 December 2015 –** **8:55pm, Marseille, France)**

They touched down in Marseille. Khoudia didn’t let either of her parents sleep, which was good news for Yuuri and Celestino. Yuuri was exhausted and anxious, and Celestino was just tired. Yuuri rubbed their eyes and took out their phone. They had a text from Victor. He had already touched down, and he was itching to see them. Yuuri was feeling anxious. The time they’d be intimately seeing Victor was nigh, and they couldn’t even talk to Khoudia about it. Khoudia was leaning on her father, and her father was talking to her mother in Wolof.

> Khoudia: You look stressed. Something on your mind?
> 
> : I’m seeing Victor when we get to the hotel.
> 
> Khoudia: And? Is that a bad thing?
> 
> : It’s not, but I feel bad.
> 
> Khoudia: Physically or emotionally?
> 
> : Can’t it be both?

Yuuri looked over at Khoudia. She wasn’t leaning on her father anymore. “I’ll take an Uber with Ciao Ciao,” Yuuri said.

“Can’t we just take one of the bigger Ubers together?” Khoudia asked.

"Do they even have those in France?" Yuuri asked. Khoudia shrugged. "If they don't have them, I'll ride with Ciao Ciao. I don't mind. Plus, you have a lot of bags."

“It’s not _that_ many bags,” Khoudia said. She looked towards the window. “So, Ciao Ciao, what’s the plan?” Coach Cialdini looked up from his phone. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

“No, Vannozza texted me.” Yuuri put their phone away. “What were you and Yuuri talking about?”

“How are we getting to the hotel?” Khoudia asked.

“Aren’t we taking an Uber?” Coach Cialdini asked.

“But do we get a big Uber and try to force all of us in there, or do you and Yuuri ride together?”

“It’s probably a good idea for us to ride separately,” Coach Cialdini said. “Yuuri, text Khoudia the address of the hotel.” Yuuri looked at Coach Cialdini.

“And what’s the address?” Yuuri asked. Coach Cialdini deadpanned. “Give me your phone.” Coach Cialdini unlocked his phone. “Do you have the address saved?” Coach Cialdini nodded. “Go to where you have it saved.” Coach Cialdini did as Yuuri asked, and Yuuri texted the address to Khoudia. Then Yuuri texted her the address of the rink.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Khoudia said. Yuuri held on to their coach’s phone and requested the Uber. Khoudia was doing the same with her dad’s phone.

“Daddy,” Khoudia said in Wolof, “ _we can’t ride with Yuuri and Ciao Ciao because there're too many bags. We're taking a different Uber._ ” Mouhamadou nodded. Khoudia put her father’s phone in her pocket. “Mama, _when we get to the hotel, can I go with Yuuri to their room? I want to help them settle in._ ”

“ _How sweet of you, Kiki,_ ” Mama Awa said. She grabbed on to Khoudia’s forearm. “ _You may go. Call us when you’re on your way._ ”

“ _Yes, Mama,_ ” Khoudia said. She smiled at Yuuri and nudged them.

> Khoudia: Do you want to touch where I shaved when we get to your hotel room?
> 
> : With my hands?
> 
> Khoudia: What else would you even touch with???
> 
> : I don’t know. My feet?
> 
> Khoudia: ((eye roll emoji))
> 
> Khoudia: Do you want to touch it or not?
> 
> : Okay, okay, I’ll touch you.
> 
> Khoudia: Thank you.

Yuuri gestured for Coach Cialdini to give his phone back; Celestino unlocked his phone and gave it to Yuuri. Their Uber was five minutes away. “How far is your Uber?” Khoudia asked. She went to try and get a look over Yuuri’s shoulder. Needless to say, it didn’t work because Yuuri had eight inches on Khoudia. Khoudia, instead, brought Yuuri’s arm down to her level and looked. Then she took out her father’s phone. “Four minutes.” Khoudia started to lean on Yuuri. “I can’t believe we’re here! This is so exciting!” Yuuri smiled. "I'm delighted you decided to come." Yuuri deadpanned.

“I was bullied into coming,” Yuuri reminded her.

“I know,” Khoudia said. “And I’m glad you’ve decided to come.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. Then their phone buzzed.

> Victor: Are you in Marseille yet?
> 
> : I’m at the airport with Khoudia and my coach. We’re waiting for our Ubers right now.
> 
> Victor: Aah, I can’t wait to see you!!
> 
> Victor: I’ve missed you so much. I can’t wait until I have you in my arms.

Yuuri felt their breath hitch. They put their phone away and looked at Celestino’s phone. Three minutes. Then Celestino’s phone buzzed. It’s his daughter. “Do you want to text Vannozza back?” Yuuri asked their coach, offering him his phone back. Celestino took his phone and went to his daughter’s message. “Ciao Ciao, have you ever thought of having another baby?” Coach Cialdini stopped texting and froze.

“I have, but after we had Vannozza, Philippa was very against the idea of going into labor again.” Yuuri chuckled. “I told her that if she doesn’t want to endure going through labor again, we could just adopt, but she’s on the fence about it.” There was silence between them. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering. Vannozza is fourteen, right?”

“Fifteen, but yes,” Coach Cialdini said. Her birthday must’ve passed recently. Yuuri didn’t feel bad about not remembering. They don't get the chance to think about Vannozza enough to remember her birthday.

“I was wondering if she ever got lonely not having a younger sibling.” Coach Cialdini nodded.

“Are you lonely without a younger sibling?”

“No, I have Mari. But Vannozza is an only child,” Yuuri said. Coach Cialdini smiled. "How did you decide to have a baby?" Khoudia looked over at Yuuri. She was squinting.

"Well, Philippa's family expected us to have a baby, and my parents wanted grandchildren, and she wanted a baby."

“So, you went with it?” Coach Cialdini nodded. “Did you want a baby?”

“Not at the time, but I grew to like the idea of having one. Didn’t expect to have a girl, though.” Coach Cialdini shrugged. “But I loved Vannozza since the day Philippa made the gender reveal cake.”

> Khoudia: Why are you asking Ciao Ciao about having children?

“Why do you ask?” Coach Cialdini asked.

“Just curious,” Yuuri said. “How did you pick the name ‘Vannozza’?”

“Well, my Nonna’s name was Giovanna, so I named Vannozza after her. I loved my Nonna greatly.” Yuuri smiled. “If we had a son and I had my way, I would’ve named him Aurelio.”

“If you had your way?”

“Philippa wanted to name our son ‘Laramie.’ I told her that he would get bullied if she did that.” Yuuri chuckled. "But no, Philippa wanted to name him Laramie, and I would probably go along with it."

“Why would you have to go along with it?”

"'My wife is always right.'"

“What does _that_ mean?” Yuuri asked.

“‘My wife is always right.’” Coach Cialdini resumed his text to Vannozza. “Having a wife is frustrating, but it is also rewarding. There is nothing better than getting to build yourself and a home with someone you truly love.” Yuuri nodded. “It may seem odd now, but you’ll see what I mean when you get married. You’re going to be simultaneously frustrated by and in love with your wife.”

“And what if I _don’t_ marry a woman?” Coach Cialdini’s face blanched. “Ciao Ciao?”

“Well, I could only _presume_ that it would be the same thing, but I am not an expert in that.” Yuuri nodded. “Are you planning on not getting married to a woman?”

“Oh no, no,” Yuuri said. “I was just curious. I am very heterosexual.”

“Good,” Coach Cialdini said.

“One more question and I’ll leave you alone,” Yuuri said. Coach Cialdini nodded. “Giovanna is the name of your Nonna. Did your wife have a name for her?”

“‘Tala Sampaguita,’” Coach Cialdini said. “I conceded to those being part of Vannozza’s name.”

“‘Sampaguita’?” Yuuri asked.

“‘Sampaguita’ is a type of jasmine flower. It’s also Philippa’s favorite flower,” Coach Cialdini clarified.

“So, what’s Vannozza’s full name?”

"Giovanna Tala Sampaguita Cialdini. She also likes to use her mother's maiden name, too. I, personally, feel that it's a mouthful for anyone to say, but my darling Vannozza loves being Filipina as much as she loves being Italian, so it's hard to say no to her." Yuuri chuckled. “So, if Vannozza wants to use ‘Reyes’ in combination with ‘Cialdini,’ I can’t say no.”

“Your daughter is your weakness,” Yuuri remarked.

“She is,” Coach Cialdini said.

"Does it bother you having to leave Vannozza and your wife constantly?" Yuuri asked. Their Uber pulled up, and Yuuri nudged their coach. Yuuri and Coach Cialdini gathered their bags and put them in their Uber. When Yuuri and Coach Cialdini got in their Uber, Khoudia’s family’s Uber pulled up.

Once Coach Cialdini got situated in the Uber, he decided to respond to Yuuri's question. "It always bothers me having to leave them, but my wife is supportive, and my daughter loves to brag about how her old man travels to all these countries as a sports coach. It makes me cool in her eyes.” Yuuri chuckled. "Having children is both a weakness and a strength."

“Why’s that?”

“It makes you vulnerable in the sense that there’s an actual part of you that’s so vulnerable, and it makes you strong in the most abstract of ways. You’ll see what I mean when you have your own.”

> Khoudia: Text back, you slut

“Do you have any more questions?” Coach Cialdini asked.

“Yes,” Yuuri said. “How did you know that you wanted to marry your wife?”

"She had gone to visit some family in Manila, and I had missed her. I was afraid that she would never return to me, and that's how I knew that I wanted her in my life for the rest of my life." Yuuri nodded. “Is there someone who you want to return to you?”

“I think so,” Yuuri said. "But I don't know. There are a lot of feelings involved, and I'm not sure how to process them."

“I’m sure Olivia wants you to return, too,” Coach Cialdini said. This time it was Yuuri’s turn to blanche. “Talk to her.” Yuuri looked at their fingertips.

> Victor: Did your Uber come yet?
> 
> : My coach and I just got in.
> 
> Victor: What about Khoudia?
> 
> : She’s taking a different Uber. She’s coming with her parents.
> 
> Victor: Is that why you’re able to see me now?
> 
> : Yes.
> 
> Victor: I am glad that her parents have accompanied her.
> 
> Victor: But why did they come?
> 
> : They wanted to support her.
> 
> Victor: How adorable.

“Yuuri,” Coach Cialdini said, “talk to your _tesoro_.”

“I will,” Yuuri said.

“Do it now,” Coach Cialdini urged.

> : Khoudia’s parents are adorable.
> 
> Victor: Do they regard you well?
> 
> : They do. Sometimes her mother takes off her _niqab_ so I can see her face.
> 
> : Khoudia explained that it’s because I’m kind of like her son.
> 
> : It makes me feel warm.

Yuuri decided to go to Olivia's messages.

> : Khoudia and I touched down in France. Just letting you know.
> 
> Olivia: Oh? And how do you like Marseille so far?
> 
> : I don’t have an opinion just yet. I’ve only been here for 20 minutes.
> 
> Olivia: You can have an idea on something in 20 minutes. That’s how I decided that I liked you.
> 
> : Good for you.
> 
> Olivia: ((eye roll emoji))

“Did you text Olivia?” Coach Cialdini asked.

“I did,” Yuuri said. “It was a terrible idea.”

"No, it isn't. You need to accept that you're in love with Olivia." Yuuri shrugged and sighed. They would have to write out their current feelings for Olivia in their journal, and they would have to contend with themselves and Victor tonight. The closer Yuuri got to the hotel, the more they dreaded seeing Victor. They would probably need to take a Xanax before Victor comes to see them.

“Ciao Ciao,” Yuuri said, "what if I'm gay or bisexual?"

“I would advise you to never speak of it to anyone in the skating world.” Yuuri nodded. “It is not kind to those who are part of the LGBT community.” Yuuri nodded again. “Are you questioning your sexuality?”

“No, I’m just thinking about it.” Coach Cialdini nodded. “Like, I’m straight. Super straight. But I’m just letting my mind wander.” Coach Cialdini nodded again. The ride was awkward and filled with silence.

#

**(Wednesday, 9 December 2015 – 9:23pm, Marseille, France)**

Khoudia and her parents arrived at the Hôtel Kyriad Marseille Palais des Congrès before Yuuri and Coach Cialdini. They were waiting inside, by the door with all their bags. “Finally, you made it,” Khoudia remarked. Khoudia’s mother nudged her forcefully. She grumbled briefly before saying, “Mama, can I go with Yuuri now?” Khoudia grabbed on to her mother’s forearm.

“Do you know the room number?” Khoudia’s father asked. Khoudia nodded. “Then you may go. Leave your bags here,” he said. Khoudia nodded and grabbed one of Yuuri’s bags.

“Let’s go!” Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s arm and led them towards the elevators. She looped her arm through theirs and took grand steps. Once they were out of earshot from Khoudia’s parents, she opened her mouth. “You have _a lot_ to explain.”

“I know, I know,” Yuuri said.

“First of all, why in the _fuck_ were you asking Ciao Ciao about having a baby? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Not telling you like what?” Yuuri asked.

“Are you having a baby?” Yuuri shook their head. “Then why did you ask him?”

“If I go back home, I’ll be expected to start a family,” Yuuri said. “I wanted some perspective on it.” Yuuri looked to Khoudia’s left. There was a tanned man with an Asian girl there.

“Stay in America, and you can be as childless as you wish,” Khoudia said.

“I can’t avoid my parents forever.” Khoudia shrugged.

"Yeah, you can," she said. "Say you got a great job in America, and you don't want to let it pass you by. Bam, you can be gay and childless and sleep with a different guy each night." Yuuri rolled their eyes. “So, why did you tell Ciao Ciao that you’re straight? We all know you’re not.”

"Your parents were right there, and I didn't feel like disappointing Ciao Ciao." The elevator came. The tanned guy let Yuuri and Khoudia step on first.

“What floor are you on?” Khoudia asked.

“Five,” Yuuri said. Khoudia pushed the button for the fifth floor. The tanned man and the woman stepped on and pushed for the sixth.

“You wouldn’t have disappointed Ciao Ciao by saying that you like guys,” Khoudia said. “I don’t think he’d even care, to be honest with you.”

“He said ‘good’ after I told him that I was straight, A–.”

“Don’t,” Khoudia whispered. “I know what you’re going to say, but don’t.” Yuuri shrugged. “But either way, I genuinely think that Ciao Ciao wouldn’t give a fuck if you said you like guys. He’s not a _leftist_ , but he _is_ liberal, and he’s open-minded. Not open-minded enough to go to an American bathhouse to explore his sexuality, but open enough to be okay with other people going to American bathhouses to explore their sexuality.”

“So, have _you_ come out to Ciao Ciao?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia started to laugh. “That’s what I thought.” The elevator stopped on the third floor; no one got on. "I'm not weird for not feeling comfortable with coming out to him with two anti-queer Muslims nearby." Khoudia shrugged. The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, and Yuuri and Khoudia got off.

“Now, what room?”

“F, I think,” Yuuri said. They went to 5F and knocked.

“Wait, fuck! We need the keycard thing!” Khoudia groaned. “Which one of us is going to go down for the card?”

“Maybe we can text Ciao Ciao to give it to us when he comes up,” Yuuri suggested.

“You text him. My phone is on 12%.”

> : Ciao Ciao, we need the thing for my room. Can you bring it up?
> 
> Celestino: What floor r u on?
> 
> : We’re in front of 5F.
> 
> Celestino: I’ll give it to u when I drop off my bags
> 
> : Tysmmm, Ciao Ciao.

“So? What’d he say?” Yuuri showed Khoudia their phone. “Thank goodness.” Khoudia laid one of Yuuri’s suitcases down and sat on it. Yuuri rolled their eyes. Yuuri unzipped their coat and sat on the floor. “Why don’t you just sit on a suitcase?” Yuuri shook their head. "You're something else; you know that, right?" Yuuri nodded. “Why are we even friends?”

"We might as well be. We go to the same rink; we have the same coach."

“I know that, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be friends with you.” Yuuri shrugged. “I could be friends with someone who isn’t weird.” This time it was Yuuri’s turn to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You say that like you’re aren’t a countercultural kid yourself,” Yuuri said. “You’re already on the Christmas card.” Khoudia squinted.

“We have a Christmas card?” Khoudia asked, confused. Yuuri laughed and shook their head. “Then why would you say that?”

"Do I need to have a purpose behind everything I say? Can't I talk for the sake of talking?"

“No,” Khoudia said. “Plus, we aren’t necessarily kids despite our delayed adulthood.” Yuuri shrugged. Khoudia swatted their shoulder.

“Disrespectful,” Yuuri said. “Do you think your parents are going to let you go macaron hunting tomorrow?”

“They have to. They don’t want to have to put up with me all day.” Khoudia yawned. “If they don’t let me, I’ll annoy them into letting me.”

“Is this what you do? Annoy people into letting you have your way?” Khoudia nodded. “Terrible, terrible.” She shrugged and took out her phone. “Wasn’t your phone dying?”

“It’s still dying,” Khoudia said. “But I have to text Adé.” Yuuri nodded. “Pose.” Yuuri posed for Khoudia.

> Khoudia: We're here! Votre poupée is in one piece!
> 
> Adé: Aaaa!!!
> 
> Adé: I’m so happy for y’all!!!
> 
> Khoudia: We’re happy too!!!

"I'm not," Yuuri said.

“Shut up,” Khoudia said. “Oh! I gotta post this on Snapchat!” Khoudia went to the app. “Hey y’all, just letting you know that Yuuri and I are in Marseille. We're getting ready to tear this place apart because of who we are as people." Then she started a new one. This one was silent, and it was just a recording of Yuuri blinking and breathing.

"You're weird, and your phone is going to die."

“Shut up.” Khoudia put her phone to sleep. “Text Victor and tell him we’re here.”

“Why? So you can have him sit on the floor and talk to you?” Khoudia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

“You told me that I could meet him.”

“I know,” Yuuri said. “But why do you want to meet him right now?”

“Because we’re here,” Khoudia said. “Give me your phone.” Yuuri arched a brow at Khoudia. “Yuuri, give me your phone.” Yuuri shook their head. “So help me if you don’t give me your phone!” Yuuri was cowed into giving Khoudia their phone. Khoudia tried to unlock it. “Yu–”

“You _know_ my passcode,” Yuuri said.

“I have ADHD, Yuuri.”

“So?” Khoudia sucked her teeth and grabbed Yuuri’s left hand. She unlocked Yuuri’s phone and went to their messages. She made a face. “Why did you text Olivia?”

“Ciao Ciao told me to text her. He thinks we’re in love or whatever.” Khoudia sucked her teeth again. “I know, right?”

“I don’t doubt that she’s in love with you, but I constantly question your true feelings for her.” Yuuri deadpanned. “Constantly,” Khoudia repeated. She reached over and grabbed Yuuri’s face. “ _Con-stant-ly,_ ” she whispered in Yuuri’s face. Yuuri removed their face from Khoudia’s hands and sat up.

“If you’re going to text Victor, text him before I decide to snatch my phone back,” Yuuri said.

"Snatch this phone away from me, and I'll snatch you by your 2B hair." Yuuri pursed their lips. Khoudia went to Yuuri’s messages to Victor; she started to read. “You should’ve just told him that you’d chill with him. You could’ve left me out of it.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to do something, though,” Yuuri said.

"I know, but I don't mind forcing myself to be around my parents if it means you'll be with Victor." Khoudia kept reading. "Victor's ardor for you is so endearing. I wish I could find me a girl like that." Khoudia smiled and kept reading. "Oh, he thinks my parents are cute, too. There's nothing cute about queerphobia, but okay, hunty." Yuuri rolled their eyes and leaned on the wall. Yuuri’s phone pinged. “Ciao Ciao just texted you.”

“What did he say?”

“That he’s waiting for the elevator right now.” Yuuri nodded. Khoudia texted Celestino “okay” and went back to Victor’s messages. Khoudia texted him a simple “we’re here in room 5F” and gave Yuuri their phone back.

> Victor: I’ll be there in a few.
> 
> Victor: Just let me figure out something to tell my coach and my rink mate.
> 
> : Are you with them right now?
> 
> Victor: Yes. It’s nice seeing them after so long.
> 
> : If you want to stay with them, stay. I’ll be fine by myself.
> 
> Victor: But I want to see you, though.

“Yuuri! Khoudia!” Khoudia looked behind herself. Coach Cialdini was coming down the hall. “How long have you been out here?” Yuuri shrugged. Coach Cialdini placed Yuuri’s keycard in their hand. “Doesn’t matter. No sleepovers, you two.”

“Yeah, yeah, Ciao Ciao,” Khoudia said.

“Khoudia, stop being insolent, or I’ll tell your mother.” Khoudia squinted.

“Are you really threatening to tell my mother on me?”

“Yes,” Coach Cialdini said, not wavering in the slightest. Khoudia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “That’s what I thought. Now, no sleepovers,” he said, looking at Yuuri. “And no sleepovers,” he said, looking at Khoudia. Khoudia rolled her eyes, and begrudgingly agreed.

“No sleepovers,” she murmured.

“Good. I’m glad we could all reach an agreement tonight. Behave yourselves now.” Coach Cialdini walked away. There was a silence.

“Hey, at least we have the keycard now,” Yuuri said. They stood up and unlocked the door. Khoudia forced herself up and brought the suitcase she was sitting on inside. Yuuri went for the remaining two bags and closed the door behind them. “Now show me your shaved body before Victor comes.”

“I was about to punch you for saying that, but then I remembered that I want you to see where I shaved,” Khoudia said. She unzipped her coat and hoodie. She pulled off her shirts and was standing in front of Yuuri in her bra and pants. She lifted her arms. “Look at my arms!” Yuuri brought their face close to examine them. “Touch them! They don’t have any razor bumps!” Yuuri ran two fingers up and down Khoudia’s right armpit. “It’s soft, right?” Yuuri nodded. “Now you have to see my crotch. That’s soft, too!”

“Wait, what?!”

“I told you I shaved everything. That everything includes my pubic area.” Yuuri scrunched up their face. Khoudia started to take off her pants and her layers. Yuuri covered their eyes as she stripped. “Why are you covering your eyes? You’ve seen my boobs before.”

“Yeah, your _boobs_ ," Yuuri said. “I have never seen your vagina before.”

“And you’re not. All you’re going to see is my pubic area.”

“This is still very weird,” Yuuri explained.

"All you have to do is touch it, and then I'll put my clothes back on." Yuuri made a sound. “It’s not going to be that bad.”

“And all I have to do is just touch it?”

“Yes,” Khoudia said. “You can uncover your eyes now.” Yuuri peeked from behind their fingers. Khoudia was standing in front of them in her bra and waist beads and nothing else. “You can touch me.” Yuuri withdrew their hands from their eyes and brought them to their mouth. “Do you need me to guide you?” Khoudia didn’t wait for an answer and grabbed one of Yuuri’s hands. She dragged two fingers along her _linea alba_. “So? Is it smooth?”

“Holy fuck, this is smooth.” Khoudia laughed. Yuuri withdrew their hand from Khoudia’s pubic area and covered their eyes to let Khoudia get dressed. “Let me know when you’re done dressing.”

“No problem,” Khoudia said. There was a knock at Yuuri’s door. Khoudia hurriedly put her shirt back on and adjusted her pants. “Who is it?” Khoudia said from behind the door.

"It's me," the voice said. Khoudia looked at Yuuri.

“Victor, it’s Victor,” Yuuri said. “You can get the door.” Khoudia adjusted her shirt and pants again to avoid giving Victor the impression that things were going on. She took a deep breath to center herself before she would get her first in-person look at al-Bahá, the Most Compassionate. Khoudia fixed her shirt a final time and walked over to the door. She opened it. “Hi!”

“H-hello,” Victor said. He stepped away. “I must have the wrong room. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Depends, are you here to see Yuuri Katsuki?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri could presume that Victor had nodded. “Then you have the right room." Khoudia finger-gunned Victor. "I’m Khoudia Bâ Sène.” Khoudia held out her hand for Victor to shake. Yuuri could guess that he took it and shook. “Don’t be a stranger. Come in!” Khoudia stepped aside and let Victor come in.

“Hello, Yuuri,” Victor said. He sat next to Yuuri and grabbed their hand. He brought it to his mouth. He tentatively looked over at Khoudia.

“Don’t worry. She knows everything.”

“Everything?”

“Well, enough to keep her gluttonous curiosity at bay.” Victor nodded. “What I haven’t willingly told her, she’s forcefully extracted and snooped for.”

"That's a weird way to talk about your friend," Khoudia said. She sat on the bed, behind them. "It's nice to meet you, Victor."

“It’s nice to meet you, too… I think.” Khoudia made a face. “I don’t know much about you aside from what Yuuri’s told me.”

“And what have they told you?” Khoudia asked.

“Not much,” Victor said. Khoudia glared at Yuuri. There was silence between them.

“Khoudia, shouldn’t you be getting back to your parents? Your phone is dying.” Yuuri grabbed Victor's hand, and they locked fingers. Khoudia seemed to grasp the thing Yuuri was trying to get across. She got up to grab her phone. She didn't make a phone call, so Yuuri presumed that she sent one of her parents a text. “So?”

"I texted my dad. I'll get out of y'alls hair." Khoudia kissed Yuuri on the forehead and hesitated on hugging Victor. "May I hug you?" Victor nodded. Khoudia took Victor into her arms and hugged him tightly. "Thank you for letting me hug you," Khoudia said. She let go of Victor and left. Yuuri looked at Victor’s hands.

“Hey, look at me,” Victor said. Yuuri looked up at Victor. Victor kissed Yuuri and ran his hands through their hair, knocking their hat off. Yuuri wrapped their arms around Victor’s neck and pulled themselves closer. Victor pulled away and pecked Yuuri on the lips. “I’ve missed you.”

Yuuri pulled Victor into a hug, and they inhaled. Victor smells like Victor and Yuuri was concurrently set on edge and comforted by it.

“I love you so much,” Victor said, keeping his hands in his bonheur’s hair. Yuuri stretched upward to kiss Victor’s forehead. Yuuri pulled out of the hug and grabbed Victor’s hands again.

“So, what did you think of Khoudia?”

“She’s… very awkward. And very small.”

"Yes, Khoudia is a tiny person," Yuuri said. "And incredibly awkward. But not really somehow." Victor made a face. "She's a different person in private."

“So, what did I just see?”

“You saw a startled Khoudia. Well, not so much startled, but caught off guard.” Yuuri let go of Victor’s hands. “She’s a good bean, though.”

“And she knows about me?” Yuuri nodded. “And she approves?” Yuuri nodded.

“I don’t think she would’ve given you a hug if she didn’t approve,” Yuuri said. "Khoudia knows a lot, and she's been dying to meet you." Yuuri got up and pulled off their coat. They placed it on the back of the chair. “But enough about Khoudia. How is your coach? Your rink mate?” Yuuri turned around and leaned on the chair, looking Victor up and down. Victor leaned in and focused on Yuuri.

“My coach is fine. He’s been pressuring me all season.” Yuuri brought a knuckle to their mouth. “I know he’s only been stressed because I decided to pack up and go to campus to learn, but I feel like that he should be focusing more on my rink mate.” Yuuri nodded. “It’s his last competition in the junior division. He needs to go out with a flourish.” Yuuri nodded again. "Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to talk about skating with you. I want to absorb your presence." Yuuri bent down to untie their Docs. They kicked them off and placed them under the desk.

“How long are you staying with me?” Yuuri asked.

“How long do you want me to stay with you?” Victor asked. Yuuri wanted to say “forever,” but decided against it. They were sure that Victor would happily oblige to stay with Yuuri forever, but Yuuri understood that – unless they both stayed in America or moved somewhere more queer-friendly – they couldn't necessarily be together forever. "Yuuri?”

“I’m thinking,” Yuuri said. Victor deadpanned. Yuuri turned around and pulled off their hoodie. Victor got up and stood behind Yuuri, his hand resting on their back. “Victor, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to hug you,” he said.

“Then why don’t you just do it instead of creeping up behind me?” Victor chuckled and kissed Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri started to take off their shirt and let it hang around their neck. Then they began to pull off their layers.

“Why don’t I help you?” Victor said. Yuuri shook their head and continued to take off their thermals. “Can I at least look at your face while you get undressed?” Yuuri obliged and turned to face Victor. They pulled their thermal top off and placed it over their shirt, which was over their coat. Yuuri was standing there in their pants and a tank top with stars on it. Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri. “I’ve decided that I’m staying the night.” Yuuri’s face blanched. “What? What happened?”

“Don’t you have to get back to your coach and rink mate?”

“No,” Victor said. “I told them I was going to get some sleep.”

“So you’re sleeping here,” Yuuri said, wrapping their head around the idea.

“Yes.”

“But the ISU doesn’t allow sleepovers,” Yuuri reminded him. They started to undo their pants. They pulled them down and struggled out of them.

“I know, but what they don’t know won’t hurt.” Victor put his arms around Yuuri's neck. "Would the ISU keep me from my boyfriend?"

“Probably,” Yuuri said, wrapping their arms around Victor’s waist. “Here, we’re figure skaters first and boyfriends second.”

“I can be both things,” Victor said. He kissed Yuuri’s forehead and left his face there. “So, let me be your boyfriend tonight. We can be skaters tomorrow.” Yuuri held on to Victor as they started to kick their pants off. Victor started laughing. “Do you need to sit down?” Yuuri shook their head. They stepped out of their pants and bent down to pick them up. They started to fold their clothes, and Victor joined in with folding Yuuri’s shirts and thermals. Once they were done, Yuuri anxiously looked at everything but Victor. Victor grabbed Yuuri’s face and brought it close to him. “What’s going on?”

"The word ‘pelican' comes from a Greek word meaning ‘ax,' and the American white pelican's wingspan ranges from 2.44 to 2.9 meters."

Victor let go of Yuuri’s face. “What?”

"The plumage of the American white pelican is almost entirely white, and the brown pelican is the smallest of the pelican genus."

“Yuuri, that isn’t what I was talking about at all,” Victor said as he put down Yuuri’s shirt. “I was asking about _you_. Not pelicans.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said. “Do you want to learn about pelicans now?”

“No,” Victor said. “Shit,” Yuuri thought. “I came to spend time with you. Not learn about pelicans.” Yuuri made a face. “But I suppose that you can tell me _one_ more fact about pelicans.”

“The Dalmatian pelican is the largest of pelicans.” Victor nodded. Yuuri looked up at the ceiling then back at Victor. They should say something. “Do you want to watch a movie with me? Maybe – if you want that is – we can go out and do something – walk, maybe. We can do that. We get something to eat. We can, um, we can –.”

“What movie do you have in mind?” Victor asked, cutting them off. Yuuri blanked. “Do you have a movie in mind?”

“ _Frank_ ,” Yuuri said. “We can watch _Frank_.”

“What’s that about?”

“It’s about a dysfunctional band.” Victor nodded. “There’s a theremin in it.” Victor nodded again. “Do you like theremins?”

“I might if I knew what one was.” Yuuri gamboled over to their bags and started rummaging through them for their laptop. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to show you a theremin! I need my laptop.”

“Can’t you just show me on your phone?” Yuuri stopped their rummaging. Victor held up Yuuri’s phone. Yuuri exhaled and returned to Victor’s side. They grabbed their phone, unlocked it, and rushed to their home screen. They swiped down and searched. They went to Google Images and showed Victor a Moog Etherwave Theremin. “It looks unimpressive.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” Victor shrugged. “We should start watching _Frank_.” Yuuri put their phone in Victor’s hands and went back to their suitcase. Yuuri found their laptop and charger and placed it on their bed. Victor started to undress and fold their clothes. Yuuri looked behind the bed for an outlet, and they found one. They forced their hand behind the bed and plugged in their charger. They logged in, and Victor got a look at their wallpaper. It was still Vicchan; Yuuri had neglected to change it.

“Is that your dog?” Victor asked. “They look so sweet. They kind of look like Makkachin.” Yuuri nodded and opened Chrome. They would have preferred to avoid talking about Vicchan and why Vicchan happens to look like Makkachin. Yuuri didn't want to have to approach their obsession-crush-special interest in Victor _to_ Victor verbally. Yuuri went to Netflix and logged in. _Frank_ was in their “To Watch” list. “Have you watched this before?”

“I’ve read the summary. Watching it tonight will be an adventure for the both of us.” Victor put his socks near his clothes which were on the desk and sat on the bed. He placed his phone and Yuuri’s on one of the nightstands and got under the covers.

“Join me,” Victor said. Yuuri got under the covers with Victor and cuddled up to him. “Space.”

“Hm?”

“Your shirt and boxers. You have a space theme going on.” Yuuri nodded.

“I’m a space kid,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded and put his slightly clenched hand on Yuuri’s thigh. “Let’s watch _Frank_.” Yuuri started the movie and grabbed Victor’s hand. They ran their thumb along Victor’s index finger. Yuuri felt vulnerable and warm in Victor’s nice arms. The voices weren’t hassling them; they weren't wholly overcome with waves of sickening anxiety. They were simply allowed to be with their happiness.

#


	54. Wine in the Vat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know probably gay existential dread nothing matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five more chapters and a sequel. 
> 
> *screams so loud I break glass*

#

**(Thursday, 10 December 2015 –** **7:12am, Marseille, France)**

Victor was wearing Yuuri’s limbs like ivy. Yuuri tried to roll over, but Victor’s torso wasn’t having that. “Stop moving,” Victor murmured.

“You’re on my _arm_ ,” Yuuri said. Victor propped himself up. Yuuri moved their arm from under Victor and motioned for him to lay back down. They got comfortable and looked up at Victor. Victor wistfully smiled and kissed Yuuri.

“Good morning,” Victor said. He put his torso on top of Yuuri’s.

“Not going to let me go anywhere?” Victor shook his head. Yuuri kissed him and put their hands behind their head. “Then I suppose we’re just going to lay here.”

“And I want nothing more.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and goofily grinned despite the negging feeling inside of their body. “We have to go to practice today.” Yuuri nodded. “I don’t want to go. Too boring.”

“But we must.”

“I don’t.” Yuuri deadpanned. Victor shrugged and chuckled. “I mean, _I_ don’t. Don’t you know who I am?”

“Okay, that’s enough now,” Yuuri said. “No need to rub it in.”

“You can be like that, too,” Victor said.

“No, I can’t.”

“Sure, you can.”

“No, I literally can’t,” Yuuri said.

“No, you literally _can_!”

“How?” Victor bit his lip. Yuuri looked him dead in the nose until their phone started to ring. They clumsily reached for it until Victor handed it to them. “Thank you.” Victor nodded. Yuuri looked at the blurry characters on their phone. “Can you pass me my glasses?” Victor reached over and put Yuuri’s glasses on their face. “Thank you.”

“Who is it?”

“Khoudia.” Yuuri took a deep breath and accepted the call. “ _¿Qué lo qué, mami?_ ”

“No cap, I have _no_ clue what you just said, so I’m just going to pretend that you said, ‘good morning,’” Khoudia said. Yuuri chuckled. “And before you say _anything_ , the answer is no.”

“ **You** called _me_.”

“Oh yeah, I did that.”

“Don’t talk to me unti–”

“Wait, I remembered! My mom wants to know if you want to come to breakfast with us.”

“What time?” Yuuri asked. Victor rolled off of Yuuri and sat up.

“Um, hold on,” Khoudia said. “Mama! When are we going to breakfast?” She yelled. Yuuri removed their other hand from behind their head and looked at their nails. “She said when my dad gets out of the shower.”

“And that will be when?” There was radio silence on Khoudia’s end. Then there was a FaceTime notification. Yuuri – of course – accepted it. Khoudia was deadpan and in her nightgown. “So?”

“You see this face?”

“Yes.”

“Take a good look.”

“I am.”

“Now, does it look like I know when my dad is going to get out of the shower?”

“ _Kiki! Stop being rude!_ ” Mama Awa’s disembodied voice yelled. Khoudia closed her eyes and inhaled.

“…I’ll come down to get you when my dad’s out of the shower.” Khoudia ended the call. Yuuri put their phone back on the nightstand.

“So that was Khoudia.”

“I understand what you meant last night now,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded. Victor rooted under the covers. “Join me.”

“I have to go to breakfast.”

“And? Khoudia’s father won’t be out of the shower for a while. Lay with me longer.” Victor’s manicured nails scratched Yuuri’s left pectoralis major. “I’ve missed you,” Victor murmured from beneath the sheets. Yuuri rolled their eyes and rooted underneath the warm sheets and into Victor’s warm arms. “Thank you.”

“If Khoudia comes down right now –”

“What? She’s your age.”

“She’s actually younger,” Yuuri corrected. Victor looked at Yuuri.

“…How old is she?”

“22,” Yuuri simply said. Victor sucked his teeth. “What? She _is_ younger.”

“Not _that_ much younger. You two are roughly in the same age range.” Yuuri shrugged.

“She was a fresh-faced freshman when we met. Now she’s old, angry, and gayer.” Victor flung the covers off of their heads. “Oh, you didn’t think she could be so gay? Well, too bad because I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach that she can get gay _er_.”

“I didn’t even know she was queer,” Victor said. Yuuri blinked.

“Oh… Well, now you know. Time for me to get out of bed.” Yuuri moved to get up, but Victor grabbed them by the arm and pulled them back.

“Nope, you’re staying with me,” Victor said, “Khoudia and her parents can’t have you just yet. Let me have my baby to myself.” He lightly bit Yuuri’s knuckles.

“Victor, I don’t want to give Khoudia any ideas.”

“She’s 22, Yuuri. I’m sure she’s sexually active.” Victor complained and rolled on his front.

“I know she is, but I also don’t want her to know what _I’ve_ been doing.” Victor rolled his eyes and grinned. “Okay, don’t be braggadocious. At least not with my rink mates.”

“For now.”

“Fo– wait a minute,” Yuuri said with a wry look on their face. They started to laugh. “Victor, no, they can’t know about this.”

“They know we’re together,” Victor said. “I don’t see a problem.”

“Okay, bu–”

“Chris knows everything.” Yuuri looked at Victor. “Should I continue?” Yuuri waved their free hand. “He’s known everything since the beginning. He’s as emotionally invested in this relationship as I am.” Victor let go of Yuuri’s arm and wedged his thumb between the meeting of Yuuri’s lips. Victor’s phone started to ring. “Don’t move. I want to kiss you.” He grabbed his phone off of the other nightstand. “I’m with Yuuri.” Yuuri didn’t know who spoke first, but it didn’t even matter. “He’s going to breakfast with his rink mate and her parents, so it’s just you, me, and the kitten. Which is fine, I guess.” Victor bit his lip. “Oh, I wish,” he sighed. “I mean… I don’t want to have to ask.” Victor sighed harder. “ _Fine_ , I’ll ask even though I doubt he’d want to do anything with me.” Victor put down his phone. “Do you want to go to dinner after practice?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, that wasn’t so hard,” Victor said to Chris. “You’re still wrong, but that wasn’t too bad.” Victor chuckled. “Okay, I guess Yuuri and I have to get dressed now. I’ll see you soon.” Victor ended the call. “I should let you get dressed.”

“Please do.”

“Wait!” Victor said as he placed his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. He kissed them. “ _Now_ you can get ready for breakfast.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and smiled but got hit with a wave of guilt and nausea again. Victor cupped Yuuri’s chin. “Are you okay? Do you want to go to breakfast, or would you rather stay in? Because I can cancel with Chris! I c–”

“I’m fine,” Yuuri said. “Go to breakfast with Chris and your kitten. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you _sure_?” Yuuri nodded. “Sure?”

“Mama Awa wouldn’t let anything happen to me,” Yuuri said.

“You’re so close to Khoudia’s mother that you call her ‘Mama’?” Victor incredulously asked. Yuuri nodded. “I want to poke.”

“By all means,” Yuuri halfheartedly said. Victor hesitated. “I’m serious. Ask if you want to.”

“How long have you known Khoudia?”

“About three or four years,” Yuuri said. They dragged themselves out of bed and picked their clothes up from off the floor. “I’m a senior and Khoudia’s about a… I don’t know, but we’re graduating at the same time.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri nodded. “So Khoudia’s a senior?”

“I think so.”

“And you’re a senior?”

“Positive I am.”

“Oh, so I don’t have to feel bad about dating an undergraduate then,” Victor said. “You know, I was very conflicted about pursuing someone your age, but… I think it worked out well.” Victor gave Yuuri another kiss. “I could just kiss your lips forever.” He kissed Yuuri again. “Like grapes, we have always accompanied the vat. From the view of the world, we have disappeared. For years, we boiled from the fire of love until we became that wine which intoxicates the world.” Victor gave Yuuri another kiss. “I wish we didn’t have to be apart.”

“It’s only for a few hours.”

“Too long,” Victor whined. “I wish we were back home already.”  
  


“I wish we didn’t have to leave to begin with,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded and kissed Yuuri again. “Soon, though, I suppose.”

“What do you mean by ‘suppose’? You’re coming home with me as soon as we arrive in Detroit.” Yuuri looked at Victor. “I mean, as soon as you’re able to get away from Khoudia, her parents, and Celestino, that is.”

“It’s not happening.” Victor deadpanned. “Get dressed.” Yuuri got out of bed and started to pick up their clothes. Then their phone buzzed. Victor grabbed it and passed it to Yuuri.

> Khoudia: Alright, I’m getting ready to hop in the shower.
> 
> : Oh, so two hours?
> 
> Khoudia: Lmao no bitch gimme 30.
> 
> : $30 or 30 minutes?
> 
> Khoudia: Minutes, dummy.
> 
> : Oh
> 
> Khoudia: Well if you want to get in some quick dick you have time
> 
> : Okay see you soon
> 
> : Wait no I can’t fuck him now he’ll never go to breakfast with Chris if I do
> 
> Khoudia: And the problem is… what exactly?
> 
> : Kiki go take your shower
> 
> Khoudia: Not until my dad gets out of the bathroom with some clothes on
> 
> Khoudia: Now go get your world rocked by al-Bahá
> 
> : No

“So? Khoudia and her parents reschedule?” Yuuri shook their head.

“She’s getting ready to take a shower,” Yuuri said. “And I should, too.”

“Maybe I can join you,” Victor coyly said with a wink.

“You don’t have clean clothes in my room.”

“So, I could shower with you if I had clean clothes with me?”

“I mean… I’d like to bathe, but I wouldn’t be necessarily against you being with me.”

“Then I’ll go get clean clothes and come back.”

“If you’re going to go back to your room, you might as well stay,” Yuuri said. Victor deadpanned. “I’m seeing you after practice. Whatever you want to do, we can do after practice.” Yuuri sat on their bed and gave Victor their pinky. Victor linked pinkies with Yuuri, and he felt that queer, exhilarating thrill he felt whenever they would touch. He kissed Yuuri again.

“Go shower before I remit on this,” Victor urged. Yuuri’s phone buzzed again.

> Khoudia: Um, my shower is going to be delayed
> 
> : ?
> 
> Khoudia: My mom has to hold my dad
> 
> : ??
> 
> Khoudia: It’s a long story that blurs the line of funny and pitiful
> 
> : Should I shower now?
> 
> Khoudia: I mean I would
> 
> Khoudia: I also might have to come down to shower
> 
> Khoudia: Idk how long my dad is going to be crying
> 
> : …What?
> 
> Khoudia: Just… just take your shower.

Yuuri gave their phone to Victor and got up and went into the bathroom to wash the Detroit sweat off of them and think about what even happened to Khoudia’s father.

#

**(Thursday, 10 December 2015 – 8:08am, Marseille, France)**

After the taxing task of tapping out Kings and Queens, Yuuri found their shower to be relaxing. They felt able to wash off the Detroit cold and prepare themselves for the Marseille cold. Victor had come in when Yuuri was in the shower to kiss them and let them know that he was going back to his room. Yuuri unintentionally got Victor’s shirt wet when they were kissing him, but Victor assured them that it was fine. Yuuri didn't feel okay about it, but they weren’t going to argue.

Right now, Yuuri was making their bed and straightening up their room. While Yuuri was fixing their suitcases, there was a knock at the door. “It’s me!” Yuuri got up from their spot and opened the door for Khoudia. Khoudia barged in and sat on the bed. “Where’s Victor?”

“He went to his room. He’s going out to breakfast with Chris.” Khoudia nodded and laid prone on the bed.

“I need to talk to you.” Yuuri nodded. “It’s important.”

“I’m listening,” Yuuri said. They got on the bed and laid next to Khoudia.

"Okay, so I think my mom either called herself or me a hoe last night." Yuuri made a face. "They were discussing marriage, and my mom said ‘you can't turn a hoe into a housewife.'" Yuuri nodded.

“Why were they discussing marriage?”

“My parents were discussing Tamir and how I haven’t shown any interest in men since him – I guess they think that I was ‘heartbroken’ after Tamir was outed. My dad was getting concerned that I caught Tamir’s gayness.” Khoudia scratched her chest. “He also wants to try and get me away from skating and get me ‘back out there’ or whatever.” Khoudia cringed.

“Did you tell him that you don’t want to stop skating? And that you can’t catch gayness?”

“I would have, but I said I was going to sleep so I couldn’t just come in like ‘first of all, bitch,’” Khoudia said. “Plus, I think my mom would beat me for saying that.” Yuuri shrugged. “And I can’t come out and come _out_ , you know? I refuse to end up like Zayd and Jibreel.” Yuuri nodded. “I don’t want to get married, I don’t want to stop skating, and I don’t want to come out, but I’m going to have to do one of these things to get my parents off my back. Just _fuck_ my life, right?” Yuuri shrugged.

“I don't see how ‘you can't turn a hoe into a housewife’ plays into this.”

“I think my mom was alluding to her super-secret hoe past in Dakar.” Yuuri made a face. “I would be clearer, but I didn’t catch what she was saying. She was speaking kind of fast.”

“Was she speaking French or Wolof?”

“Wolof.”

“That explains why you couldn’t catch her.” Khoudia rolled her eyes and groaned. Then she sighed. Yuuri poked her nose.

“My parents are waiting in the lobby. We should get going before my mom calls.” Khoudia got up and held her hand out for Yuuri. Yuuri pulled themselves up and put on their coat, making sure to grab their keycard and their phone. They left the room.

“So, aside from that entire mess of a situation, how are your parents?”

“Oh! Parents! That reminds me!” Khoudia stretched and reached for Yuuri's shoulders. "One of the clerks said that my mom couldn't wear her _niqab_ while she's here. She’s really hurt over this.” Khoudia let go of Yuuri's shoulders, and they walked to the elevator.

“Can’t she wear the one without the face thing?”

“She _can_ , but she doesn’t want to.” Yuuri frowned. “So be nice to my mom while she’s wearing her hijab.”

“I am _always_ nice to your mother.” Khoudia hesitated, but then nodded in agreement. “May I hug her?” Khoudia shrugged. The elevator came.

“I’d ask her. She still might be on edge and might not want to be touched by anyone.” Yuuri nodded. They stepped on the elevator and pushed the button for the first floor.

When they got off, Mama Awa and Mouhamadou were waiting by the door. Khoudia grabbed Yuuri by the arm and dragged them over to her parents. “Good morning,” Yuuri said. Mama Awa smiled weakly at Yuuri; Mouhamadou nodded in acknowledgment and rubbed his eye. Khoudia took out her phone and went to Google Maps. “What are you doing?” Yuuri looked over her shoulder.

“I’m getting the directions for _le_ _brasserie_.” Yuuri nodded. Mama Awa and Mouhamadou conversed amongst themselves. “Okay, I think I got them. We have to cut through the park.” Yuuri nodded. "Did you hear me?" Khoudia asked her parents. "We have to cut through the park." Mama Awa and Mouhamadou nodded. Mama Awa looped her arm through her husband's, and they walked out. "They didn't even hear me say which way. Jesus Christ," Khoudia grumbled. Khoudia followed her parents out, and Yuuri followed Khoudia.

When Yuuri and Khoudia caught up to Awa and Mouhamadou, they didn't notice that the two delayed adults were close behind them.

> : For two people who have never been to Marseille, they seem to act like they know where they're going.
> 
> : I don't understand
> 
> Khoudia: I don't get it either, but they're going the right way somehow.

They were walking through the park now. Before then, Mama Awa was talking to her husband. “You know, Yuuri,” Mama Awa said. Yuuri started to pay attention. “You look kind of sick.”

“Do I?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes. It is concerning.”

“Mama, what do you mean?” Khoudia cut in. “Yuuri looks the same as the last time you saw them.”

“No, he does not,” Mama Awa said. “Look into his eyes. Yuuri looks dead.”

“ _Mom_ , you can’t go around saying that people look dead!”

"Well, it is true! Your friend looks very lifeless, and I am concerned!" Yuuri looked at Mama Awa and Khoudia. Despite Mama Awa wearing a black, pashmina hijab, a black abaya, shorter stature, and her bassy voice, there were no physical facial differences between her and Khoudia. It was kind of scary how much Khoudia looked like her mother.

“I’m fine, Mama Awa,” Yuuri said. “I just haven't been sleeping well.”

“Poor baby,” she said, reaching up to touch Yuuri’s head. “Wait, pull down your hat some more. Your ears are going to get cold.” Yuuri stopped walking and crouched down to Mama Awa’s level. She fixed their hat for them. “You do not have a scarf either. You children are going to catch a cold dressing like this.” She admonished. “I do not see the fascination with catching pneumonia for the sake of looking cute. You two always look cute.” Yuuri chuckled and stood up straight. “Kiki, you need to be more attentive to the state of your friends.”

“I can't make Yuuri put on a scarf, Mama.”

"No, I am not talking about that – okay, maybe I am talking about that, too – but your friend has been walking around looking lifeless, and you have said nothing to him."

“Mama, they said they hadn't been sleeping well. We _know_ why they look dead."

“Oh, so _now_ you say he looks dead?” Khoudia rolled her eyes. Mama Awa linked arms with her husband again. “Do better, Kiki.”

“Yes, Mama,” Khoudia begrudgingly said. Yuuri consolingly patted Khoudia’s shoulder. “Yuuri, stop looking dead,” Khoudia said once she had a firm grasp on her frustration.

“Would if I could, Kiki.” Yuuri chuckled. Mama Awa resumed talking to Mouhamadou.

When they got to the _brasserie_ , it was sparsely populated, but one table caught Yuuri's eye. Christophe winked at Yuuri and returned his attention to Victor and the small blonde with them. Khoudia didn’t notice this; she practically gamboled over to the booth. She slid in and smiled.

“What do you gain from being first to the table, Kiki?” Mouhamadou asked. “You aren’t eight anymore.”

“I _know_ , Daddy, but being first is always satisfactory.”

“Keep that in mind when you skate,” he said. Khoudia nodded. Yuuri slid in next to Khoudia; Mama Awa slid in next to her husband. A waitress gave them three adult menus and a child’s menu. Khoudia was so inflamed that she couldn’t verbally ask for an adult menu; she just settled for looking on with Yuuri.

“You look very nice today, Mama Awa,” Yuuri said to her. Mama Awa’s face was impassive at first, but then she smiled.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” she said. “And despite looking dead, you look very… you look like you need someone to take care of you.” She smiled sweetly and opened her menu. Yuuri made a face and opened their menu.

“Mr. Sène, what happened to you this morning?” Yuuri asked. Mouhamadou sighed heavily and turned the page of his menu.

“Tell him, _mon trognon_ ,” Mama Awa said. Yuuri looked at Mouhamadou. He kept his eyes downward.

“I got shampoo in my eyes,” Mouhamadou muttered. “And then I started crying because I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to look at my family again.”

“That’s so sweet,” Yuuri murmured. “Not the shampoo part, but being afraid of not seeing your loved ones again.” Mouhamadou nodded and returned his attention to his menu. Yuuri didn’t interact with Khoudia’s father much, but when he did, he was usually quiet and stoic; however, if this morning’s account was any indication, he wasn’t like this with people he knew intimately. Yuuri doubted that they would ever have the chance to get to know Mouhamadou personally; instead, they took Mouhamadou’s apathy and reserved nature on the chin. Yuuri was sure that he was a nice man. Khoudia didn't have many – if any – complaints about her father.

"Do either of you know why Celestino did not come with us for breakfast?" Mama Awa asked. "He seems like a charming man."

“Ciao Ciao just doesn’t come to breakfast with us,” Khoudia said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

> Khoudia: Probably because he was out with his coach buddies all night
> 
> : That can’t necessarily be proven
> 
> Khoudia: But he was

"Hm. Well, his presence is certainly missed," Mama Awa said. "Kiki, text your coach and tell him that we miss his presence here." Khoudia nodded but didn't text Coach Cialdini. "Did you text him?" Khoudia nodded. "What did he say?"

“He didn’t respond, Mama,” Khoudia said. She put her phone down. “Yuuri, we’re still going macaron hunting, right?” Yuuri nodded.

“You _hunt_ for macarons?” Mama Awa cut in.

“Technically, yes,” Khoudia said blankly.

“Can you not just buy them from a store?”

“That’s what we’re doing, Mama.” Mama Awa looked confused. “We’re going to _hunt_ for a place to _buy_ them from.”

“Oh!” Khoudia picked up her phone and started to type something out.

> Khoudia: I should not have told my mom that we’re going to get macarons.
> 
> : Why?
> 
> Khoudia: She’s just going to eat them all and make me cry because she’s going to eat my favorite ones, and I’m just going to have to deal with it.
> 
> : The price of being twins.
> 
> Khoudia: …What?
> 
> : You and your mom look a lot alike.
> 
> Khoudia: Don’t remind me.

While Yuuri was responding to Khoudia, they got a text from Victor.

> Victor: Chris finally got through to me about you being in the next booth.
> 
> Victor: This is so exciting.
> 
> Victor: I've seen movies where this has happened, and now it's happening!!!

Yuuri smiled. “Your sister?” Mama Awa asked, smiling. Yuuri shook their head. “Oh, so it is your girlfriend, then?” Yuuri’s face blanked. “Kiki tells us that you have a girlfriend. She said ‘partner,’ but we knew that she meant ‘girlfriend.’ Her English is not that good at times.” Yuuri slowly nodded, still processing what Mama Awa said. The waitress came and took their orders. When the waitress left, Mama fixed her mouth to say something else. “So, do you like her?”

“Her who?” Yuuri asked, perplexed.

“Your girlfriend, hummingbird,” Mama Awa said.

“I wouldn’t be with her if I didn’t.” Yuuri unlocked their phone to text Khoudia. Mama Awa smiled.

> : You told your mom that I’m dating?
> 
> Khoudia: I was excited for you! I had to tell someone!
> 
> Khoudia: Let me enjoy your happiness!

“Is she pretty?” Yuuri nodded.

“Gorgeous,” Yuuri said.

“Does she make you happy?”

“More than I can physically handle.”

“Good. You deserve all the happiness in the world, mon colibri.” Mama Awa reached across to touch Yuuri’s face. “Oh, your skin is dry. Hold on.” Mama Awa sat down properly and reached into her purse. She pulled out a pack of tissues, hand sanitizer, and eye drops. Then she pulled out a thing of Palmer’s Cocoa Butter. It looked to be about 13.5oz. She squirted some in her hand, rubbed her hands together, and got up. “Look at me, hummingbird,” she said. Yuuri looked up at her. Mama Awa rubbed the lotion on Yuuri’s face and neck. “Now, give me your hands.” Yuuri offered up their hands to Mama Awa, and she rubbed the excess lotion on them. "There! Your skin is hydrated now!" Mama Awa touched Yuuri’s face with her soft, lotioned hands and smiled. She returned to her seat, rubbing in the excess, and started to put things back in her bag.

“So, do you keep that with you all the time?” Yuuri asked.

“It is part of being a mom. You always have to be prepared.”

“Mama keeps a lot of things in her bags,” Khoudia said. “She has a lighter in her bag.”

“So?”

"I do not smoke," Mama Awa said. "But you never know when you need a lighter, so I keep it." Yuuri looked over at Mouhamadou; he was on his phone. Yuuri checked theirs.

> Victor: Who’s the woman that was rubbing your face?
> 
> : Khoudia’s mom.
> 
> Victor: Why did she rub your face?
> 
> : She said my face was dry.

The waitress came back with their breakfast. Yuuri had ordered a hot chocolate; Khoudia had to be a tourist and order tea. Mama Awa and Mouhamadou got coffees. Khoudia snapped a flick of her tea and _pain_ _aux_ _raisins_ and dug in. Yuuri looked over at her. Once Khoudia finished chewing a bite, she spoke. “I’m hungry, okay?” Yuuri tut-tutted Khoudia and slowly started to eat their _chocolatine_. Mouhamadou was still silent, looking at his brioche.

“Is something the matter, _trognon_?” Mama Awa asked her husband. She put down her plain croissant and looked at her husband.

“How do I eat brioche, _ma caille_?”

“Give me,” she said. Mouhamadou gave his brioche to his wife. Mama Awa held the brioche in her husband’s face and took a bite.

"Like that?" Mouhamadou asked. Mama Awa nodded. He took a bite of the brioche while his wife was still holding it. "Like this?" Mama Awa nodded again.

“Y’all gross,” Khoudia said.

“I think it’s cute,” Yuuri said.

“Of course you do,” Khoudia said, rolling her eyes. “Yuuri, can you find a place that sells macarons? We should get going soon.” Yuuri nodded. They woke up their phone. They had texts from Olivia and Mari. Yuuri unlocked their phone and went to Google Maps. Yuuri’s search revealed two viable options: Maison Zeppini and Vincent Palazzolo’s Pâtissier. Yuuri showed Khoudia the options they picked for her. She seemed to favor Vincent Palazzolo over Maison Zeppini.

Yuuri and Khoudia rushed to finish their bread and get out of the presence of Khoudia’s parents. Yuuri and Khoudia loved them dearly, but they needed to have a candid discussion about several things that have transpired, and that discussion needed to be free of their influence. Yuuri especially wanted to talk to Khoudia about her telling her parents about their “girlfriend.”

“We should get going,” Yuuri said, trying to muster up all the kindness in them.

“We should get going, too.”

“What are you doing?” Khoudia asked.

“Mouhamadou, what are we doing?” Mama Awa asked. Mouhamadou looked up from his remaining piece of brioche.

“What?” Mouhamadou blankly said.

“What are we doing after this?”

“I don’t know, what do you want to do?” Mouhamadou asked. Mama Awa deadpanned.

“Yuuri and I should let you decide on what to do without our influence,” Khoudia said. She rested her hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Slide out.” Yuuri did as Khoudia said.

“We will pay. You go do whatever,” Mama Awa said. Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s hand and started to pull them away. “Ah! Kiki let go of his hand! He has a girlfriend!”

"She doesn't care!" Khoudia yelled. Khoudia walked faster, and Yuuri struggled to keep up with her. She was practically running as fast as her small legs would carry her. Yuuri felt their phone buzz. When Yuuri and Khoudia got to the corner at the red light, Yuuri took out their phone.

> Victor: You have a girlfriend?
> 
> Victor: What about me?
> 
> : I can’t tell if you’re being facetious or not, but either way, I’ll explain.
> 
> Victor: Please do.
> 
> : Khoudia told her parents that I was dating someone (she didn't mention their gender at all; she said "partner"), and her parents interpreted that as me having a girlfriend. I didn't want to put Khoudia on blast or unnecessarily out myself to her parents, so I just went along with it.
> 
> : Her parents may love me and treat me like I'm their son, but they're still religious and homophobic. I suspect that I won't get the "loved child" treatment from them if/when they find out that Khoudia was purposely vague and that I have a super sweet boyfriend and not a super sweet girlfriend like they've led themselves to believe.

“Um, Khoudia?” Yuuri said. Khoudia was anxiously waiting for the light to change.

“Yeah?”

"It's a two-hour walk from here to Vincent Palazzolo's Pâtissier; you know that, right?" Khoudia's countenance fell. She looked at Yuuri with a deadpan expression on her face. “We should just go back to the hotel and take an Uber from there.” Khoudia rolled her eyes.

> : Plus, you are the only present lover I have ((heart emoji))

Yuuri looked at their phone and took a deep breath. They then felt like they were being kicked in the solar plexus. They felt like a liar for even fixing their fingers to say that. They couldn’t ignore that they had made moves to sleep with Olivia while they were in a committed relationship. They figured that they would have to tell Victor about their transgression and brace themselves for the fallout. They didn’t think they were able to continue with this constant weight on their chest.

“You should’ve told me this sooner,” Khoudia chided.

“It’s just an eleven-minute walk back to the hotel,” Yuuri said. “We’ll live.” They bit their lip. “Well, _you’ll_ live. I might die.”

“Why is that?” Yuuri shrugged. “You’re lucky this street isn’t busy because I’d push you into traffic.”

“See? I might die. Cause of death? Khoudia Bâ Sène.” Yuuri felt their phone buzz again.

> Victor: I better be your only present lover

Yuuri decided to test the waters. See what they could expect from Victor _if_ they choose to come clean.

> : Or what?
> 
> Victor: Are you… Are you serious right now?
> 
> Victor: Yuuri
> 
> : I’m being facetious, Victor.
> 
> Victor: Good. I don't know what I'd do if there were someone else.
> 
> : You’re my only one.

Yuuri sighed and put their phone away. They were lying up a storm today. "I'm a terrible boyfriend," Yuuri murmured.

“Pardon?”

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.” The light changed. Yuuri and Khoudia set off to cross the street. Khoudia waited for Yuuri to expand on that thought.

“So, you’re not going to tell me what you mean by that?” Khoudia said.

“I don’t feel the need to. I’m just a terrible, dishonest boyfriend, and Victor deserves better.” Yuuri played with the ring/silent button on their phone. “I’m actively lying to him about being faithful.”

“It’s not like you went over there to have sex with her, right?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri stayed silent. “Does Phichit know?” Yuuri shook their head. “Okay, I know that this is going to be antithetical to who I am and how I operate, but just keep an open mind with me.”

“Shoot,” Yuuri murmured.

“You can’t tell Victor that,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at her. “Like I get that this is eating you up inside and that you’re like me, but you actually cannot tell him that.”

“I should.”

“In a perfect world where hot guys aren’t also batshit crazy, you _can_ and you two could have a discussion about where you should go from there and let the chips fall where they may, but Victor might snap and murder you if you do so – for your safety – I would just keep that from him for the rest of my life… or the duration of the relationship. Whichever one happens first.” Yuuri sighed. “I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to learn to live with the guilt. I wish I could give you better words of wisdom.”

“You tried.”

“I know,” Khoudia said. She looked at her feet. “And don’t do anything stupid like break up with Victor because you can’t live with yourself.” Yuuri looked down at Khoudia and rolled their eyes. “Now, let’s get to the hotel so we can get macarons!” Khoudia skipped across the street, awkwardly bringing Yuuri along with her. Yuuri unlooped their arm and briefly picked Khoudia up. “Aah!!” Her small legs flailed as Yuuri held her up above them. Yuuri took a few hesitant steps. “Put me down!” Yuuri did ask Khoudia asked and placed her on her feet. Yuuri smiled despite the guilt eating them alive.

#

**(Thursday, 10 December 2015 –** **6:20pm, Marseille, France)**

After the macaron hunt – which proved to be successful – they struggled to find something to do in the area. The area mainly had hair salons and restaurants, and Yuuri and Khoudia had no use for either. They got their macarons and were glowing with the joy of having macarons and being able to chill together without the scrutiny of Celestino or Khoudia’s parents. But that joy was soon cast aside when Coach Cialdini called Yuuri and Khoudia to the rink for their final practice. The practice itself went well for Khoudia. Not so much for Yuuri. Between the macarons, the chilling, the gaming, the working, and the phone call, the voices came back, and Yuuri was imbued with several strains of depression, hellbeast dysphoria, virulent guilt, and all the anxiety in the world. They couldn't just go up to Khoudia's room and say, "lay with me until I don't want to fling myself into the Old Port" – her parents were with her, and they wouldn't understand any of what Yuuri’s feeling. It was a shame, too. Yuuri wanted someone – either Mama Awa or Khoudia – to take them into their soft arms and hold them and tell them that it was going to be alright and kiss away their tears. But Mama Awa wouldn't understand, and she wouldn't be able to provide the relief that Yuuri sought.

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice came from the other side of the door. Yuuri wiped their eyes and looked at the door. “Yuuri.”

“Yeah?” Yuuri said, their voice cracking.

“Are you okay? Can I come in?” Yuuri got up and opened their door for Victor. He was standing at the door with four flowers. Yuuri looked down at them instead of at Victor. “These are for you.” Victor held them out towards Yuuri. He gave Yuuri two hybrid tea roses, a mountain lily, and an eyeliner lily. Victor came in and closed the door. "I saw them when I was with Christophe, and I thought of you."

“Why me?”

“Well, the roses because you’re kind of delicate and beautiful like one and the lilies because your name is Yuuri.” Yuuri smiled a bit. “The florist told me how to say ‘mountain lily’ in Japanese, and I decided that I _needed_ to give it to you.” Yuuri looked down at their flowers and smiled at them. When Yuuri looked back at him, Victor seemed to be in thought.

“What? What happened?”

“Come here,” Victor said. Yuuri put their flowers on their bed and stepped up to Victor. Victor placed his hands on Yuuri's face and looked into their eyes; Yuuri focused on Victor’s nose. Yuuri stood on their toes and kissed the tip. “You’ve been crying.” Yuuri didn’t nod or shake their head. Instead, they just kept silent. “Did something happen?” Victor stroked Yuuri’s face and kissed the bridge of their nose. Yuuri made a wry face. Victor pulled away. “What happened?” Yuuri remained silent and just took Victor into their arms. They squeezed him as tightly as they could and tried to fight back the tears that threatened to come through. Victor guided Yuuri towards the bed, and Yuuri beckoned him over. Victor moved the flowers to the bedside and looked at Yuuri.

“Do we have to go out for dinner tonight?” Yuuri asked.

“If you don’t want to, no,” Victor said.

“Then don’t make me go to dinner.”

“I won’t make you go,” Victor said. “Do you want me to stay with you?” Yuuri shrugged. “Yuuri, do you want me to stay with you or not? Because I’ll leave if you want me to.” Yuuri nodded. “Then I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri murmured. “If you want to go eat, you can go out with Chris, you know.” 

“Didn’t you just ask me to stay?”

“I didn’t necessarily ask you to.” Victor deadpanned. He moved to get up. Yuuri held him back. “But stay with me.”

“What do you want me to do?” Victor asked. He stroked Yuuri’s face languidly. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.” Yuuri had several things that they wanted, but the one that won out was wanting to be held. So Yuuri said that.

“Lay with me.” Victor nodded. He kicked off his shoes and crawled to the center of Yuuri’s bed. Victor laid down and patted the space next to him. Yuuri did as Victor directed and looked at the ceiling. Yuuri wished that the ceiling could just put them out of their Missouri and crush them. The only sad aspect of being crushed by the ceiling was that Victor would be there, too, and Victor didn’t deserve any of that.

“Move closer. I can’t hold you like this,” Victor said. Yuuri snuggled up to Victor and closed their eyes. Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri and kissed their forehead. It wasn’t Khoudia or Mama Awa – or Olivia, for that matter – but it was arms that loved them wholly and utterly, and that was enough.

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I hit it right when I had my posting alarm set.


	55. The Shadow and the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gay existential dread x 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five more.

#

**(Friday, 11 December 2015 –** **5:15am, Marseille, France)**

Victor had to leave Yuuri because his rink mate was being petulant, and his coach wanted him to handle this. Yuuri didn’t understand it, but Yuuri wasn’t going to keep Victor from his duties. So Victor left. And when he left, Yuuri started crying again. There were several reasons for them crying this time, and none of them were quickly resolvable. Their phone was ringing right now; it was Olivia. Despite everything Olivia has put them through, what they’ve sworn themselves to do, and their track record of making questionable decisions, Yuuri decided to pick up.

“Hey.”

“Hello,” Yuuri murmured. They wiped their eyes and cleared their throat. “Hello,” Yuuri said again.

"Today's the big day," Olivia said. "Let's FaceTime." Olivia sent the FaceTime request, and Yuuri accepted it. Olivia was lying in bed in the dark. “Are you excited?”

“Not really, no,” Yuuri said. They turned on the lights and laid back down. They reached for their flowers and brought them to their face. “I don’t want to be here.”

"Well, you're there. You might as well skate." Yuuri shrugged and rolled on their side to look at Olivia. “You’re going to do very well. Not gold medal well, but well.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. They don’t need to be reminded that they aren’t going to get the gold. Maybe silver or bronze if they’re lucky. Maybe. “I believe in you.”

“I would say thank you, but I have a speech impediment,” Yuuri said. Olivia sucked her teeth.

“What do you want to do when you come back?”

“With you or in general?”

“Either one.”

“I don’t know.” Yuuri looked at their fingers. “It all depends on how I feel after I get home. I might not want to do anything.”

“Well, you know that I’m here if you’re in the mood to do anything.”

“I know you are,” Yuuri murmured. “You don’t seem to care about the boundaries of my relationship.”

“Nor do you,” Olivia teased. “We’re both in the wrong here.”

“I know,” Yuuri said. "And I have every intention to fix that."

“And how are you going to do that?” Yuuri shrugged. “Well, when you fix that, let me know. I’d love to hear about this.”

“I’m sure you would.” Olivia sat up and turned on the light. She started to move her arms above her head. “What are you doing?”

"I'm fixing my hair," Olivia said. When she was done, she laid back down. Olivia didn't bother to turn off her lights. When she laid down, she was smiling. "I'm so glad you picked up tonight." Yuuri nodded and yawned. “How’s your boyfriend?”

“He’s fine.”

“Does he miss you?” Yuuri remained silent. “Have you even talked to him?”

“I have.”

“And?”

“He misses me,” Yuuri murmured. “I had breakfast with Khoudia’s parents yesterday.”

“Oh? And how are they?”

“They’re fine,” Yuuri said, stifling a yawn. “They think I have a girlfriend. Khoudia’s mom asked me if she was pretty.”

“And? What’d you tell her?”

“That my ‘girlfriend’ is gorgeous, and they make me too happy for words.” Olivia nodded. “Khoudia’s mom called me ‘hummingbird.’ She’s so adorable.” Yuuri audibly gushed and smiled. “I love Khoudia’s mom. She’s so nice to me.” Yuuri’s smile wouldn’t fade.

“I love your smile.” Yuuri rolled on their front and buried their face in their pillow. Yuuri, although they’d hate to admit it, was flattered by Olivia’s compliment. “I know you said that you don’t _know_ what you want to do when you get home, but maybe we can go out for something that weekend.”

“Maybe. I’ll think about it,” Yuuri said. “I don’t know what I want to or should do when I get back.”

“We can go see a movie if you want,” Olivia suggested. Yuuri shrugged. “Not in the mood for a movie?” Yuuri shook their head. “Well, what would you _like_ to do?”

“I literally don’t know,” Yuuri said. “I’ll text you when I have an _idea_ , but I doubt that I will.” Olivia rolled her eyes and shrugged. “So which cousin are you staying with exactly?”

“Alessandra.” Yuuri nodded. “She’s loving Italy. I wish I could’ve gone.”

“You spent like three years in France,” Yuuri said. “You had time.”

“Between being engaged and the backpacking, not really.”

“You just said you were backpacking. You could’ve backpacked to Italy.”

“Okay, shut up now,” Olivia said. “How about go out for drinks or food?”

“You know I’m wary about going out for drinks with you, right?”

“I know, but tell me why,” Olivia said.

“Last time I drank with you, you shoved your tongue in my mouth.” Yuuri rolled on their side again. “I’m not sure if I want to relive that. Especially considering this past Saturday.”

“Are you still worked up over that?” Yuuri nodded. “Nothing even happened. You have nothing to be worked up about.”

“Except that I _do_ because I could have slept with you that night.”

“You’re all shook up about tear stains and could-have-beens; you didn’t sleep with me. I couldn’t even kiss you because you were so shaken.” Olivia sighed. “Saturday was nothing.” Yuuri let out a sound. “Did it… did it mean something to you?” Yuuri let out another sound. Olivia started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Yuuri asked.

“You are.” Yuuri frowned. They don’t get the joke. "You've remained the same, and it's just _so_ funny!” Yuuri sighed and rolled on their front again, this time putting their pillow over their head. Olivia kept laughing.

“It isn’t that funny,” Yuuri murmured.

“I think it’s pretty funny.”

“Then maybe the humor is just lost on me.”

  
“Humor is usually lost on you,” Olivia said. She finally stopped laughing. Yuuri didn’t miss this at all. “How about… how about we go out for dinner and maybe drinks – maybe. If you’re up to it, that is.” Yuuri shrugged. “I can’t _wait_ for you to come back.”

“You’re only saying that because you want me in your bed.” Olivia sheepishly chuckled. “You’re not even going to try to deny it.”

“I can’t. I want you in my bed.” She shrugged. “And I feel like part of you wants to be in my bed, too.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t answer that. I have a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend that you didn’t think about while you were tempting this God-fearing woman.” Yuuri sighed. They didn’t need this at all. “Are you tired?”

“Very,” Yuuri mumbled.

“Perdono?”

“I’m drained right now,” Yuuri said, speaking up. They removed their head from under their pillow and placed it properly. “I’m going to bed. Good morning.”

“Good night,” Olivia said. She ended the call, and Yuuri sighed. After that abortion of a call, Yuuri decided to check their texts. Khoudia had texted Yuuri sometime between Victor coming over and Yuuri dozing off. She had sent them a meme and a picture of them from back in the day. It was back when Yuuri's hair was longer, and they had fewer bags under their eyes. Khoudia was somehow shorter, and her hair was as short as she was. It was a time that brought its own complexities. 

And Olivia seemed to be a constant complexity for the both of them.

Yuuri looked at the photo Khoudia had sent them and smiled. They decided to text her back.

> : Look at us, all young and carefree
> 
> : And look at us now, all old, stressed, and gay
> 
> : A tragedy
> 
> Khoudia: Honestly. Truly.
> 
> : Go to bed. You have to sleep.
> 
> Khoudia: The same can be said for you ((eyes emoji))

Yuuri rolled their eyes.

> Khoudia: Can I come through real quick?
> 
> : No. Go to bed.
> 
> Khoudia: Come onnnn
> 
> : No
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]

Yuuri sent a picture of themselves, deadpan.

> Khoudia: Come on. Don’t be like that.
> 
> Khoudia: My parents are asleep and I’m bored
> 
> : Still no.
> 
> Khoudia: I’ll only stay for five minutes
> 
> : …Only five minutes?

Yuuri rolled their eyes at themselves for allowing themselves to be worn down.

> Khoudia: Yes pls I am DYING up here, and my dad's snoring is annoying me lol
> 
> Khoudia: I have no clue how my mom lives with that racket
> 
> : Fine. Come through.
> 
> Khoudia: AYE
> 
> : But ONLY five minutes.
> 
> Khoudia: These are five minutes you won’t ever regret!
> 
> : Yeah, yeah, come through before I change my mind.

Yuuri sighed and forced themselves up. They got up to unlock their door for Khoudia and went to sit down. Before Yuuri knew it, Khoudia was trying to tip-toe in.

“I’m up,” Yuuri said.

“Oh, good!” Khoudia stopped trying to be quiet and just forced herself in. She sat at the foot of Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri had a timer going; Khoudia looked over at it. “You really want me out of here in five minutes?”

“Tick tick,” Yuuri said. Khoudia lightly shoved them.

"My parents are asleep, and I'm bored." Yuuri nodded. “Do you want to do something when we get home?”

“Oh! Another request for socialization!” Khoudia looked at Yuuri.

“Should I ask?”

“Does it really matter if you do?”

“Fine, I’ll bite: Who are the other requests from?”

“Just Olivia. And Victor, but at a later date.”

“Victor is fine. Chuck Olivia in the trash, though.” “What did she suggest that you two do?”

“She suggested that we go out for drinks. I told her that I don’t want to drink with her because of last time.” Khoudia nodded. “I don’t think I’ll be doing anything with her.”

"Good," Khoudia said. "She doesn't deserve your time. You have people who love and value you in your life, and she is not one of those people."

“Didn’t you say that she loves me?” Yuuri looked at their phone.

"She loves you, but not in a good way. Her love is childish. When she learns how to elevate herself and how she loves, you can talk to her again, but, until then, you shouldn't be with her. Plus, you have one of the greatest people on this Earth love-struck. Don't fuck that up because of someone's immature love."

“Do I deserve love?”

"As my mother said, you deserve all the happiness in the world. And that happiness extends to love." Khoudia kissed Yuuri’s head. “You deserve unfiltered happiness and pure love.” Yuuri nodded and looked at their fingers.

“Can we go shopping when we get home?” Khoudia made a face.

“Shopping for what exactly? I don’t think Phichit would approve of any more shopping sprees.”

“I would like a few dresses.” Yuuri looked over at Khoudia. She was looking at her hands. “I shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t I?”

Khoudia put her hand on their shoulder. “We should get you some cute bras and panties, too.”

“I was just asking to get dresses, but –”

“No, if you’re going to get cute dresses, you need to get cute underwear, too,” Khoudia said. “You know what would look great on you? Tights. You need tights, too.”

“All I wan–”

“And earrings! We can get your ears pierced, finally! I’ve been waiting for this day since you told me the thing!” Khoudia started to pat Yuuri's shoulder frantically. "And Sephora! We can go to Sephora! You need better eyeliner anyway. That cheap $1 eyeliner is not cutting it for you." Khoudia smiled. "And I can get the Moonchild palette! I'll have to hide it from Didi and Fatou, though." Khoudia bit her lip. "But we can also pick up some nice perfumes for you. You'll have to tell me what kind of pretty smells you like so we can pick up something nice."

“But I –”

"And we can get your eyebrows threaded and get our nails done together!" Khoudia scratched her eyebrows. "It's been a while since I got my brows threaded. It's starting to look like there's a caterpillar on my forehead." Khoudia laughed. Yuuri rolled their eyes and threw their head back, hitting the bed. “Ooh, you know what else you need? A cute necklace. We can get you a cute necklace, too.” Yuuri made a sound; Khoudia kept talking. “You’re going to look like such a cute girl!” Khoudia gushed. “I mean, you’re already a cute girl, but – this! This’ll be great!” Yuuri smiled inwardly and didn’t bother to cut Khoudia off anymore. “Do you want me to use female pronouns for you now?”

“I don’t know.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia’s back. “But I _do_ know that this,” Yuuri gestured, “is making me uncomfortable now, and I feel disgusting.” Khoudia started to look down at Yuuri’s feet. “What?”

“Do you have nail polish at home?”

“Not any nice ones, no,” Yuuri murmured.

“We can pick out a nice color for you when we go shopping, too.” Yuuri nodded. "I don't know if there are any shoes your size, though. Your feet are huge."

“Thanks for reminding me.” Khoudia laid down next to Yuuri. She focused on their mouth. “What now?”

“What shade of lipstick would look good on you?”

“I’m content with just using Vaseline.”

"No, no, no. You need lipstick. And eyeshadow. And mascara."

“But my eyelashes are just fine,” Yuuri protested.

"Your eyelashes are luscious, but you have to make them pop!" Khoudia popped the p. "Are you going to grow your hair out?" Yuuri nodded. "When it gets long enough, I can take you to the salon, and you can get your hair did. Do you want to try out curls again?" 

“I don’t know,” Yuuri murmured. Khoudia reached over and touched Yuuri’s eyelids.

“You need to get some good skin moisturizer, too.”

“Well, what did Mama put on my face earlier?”

“Palmer’s cocoa butter.”

“Then I’ll get that,” Yuuri said. Khoudia looked down at Yuuri’s fingers. “I like the way it smells.” Khoudia nodded.

"I hope nice people are working in Sephora when we go. They could give you some good makeup pointers." Yuuri nodded. The alarm went off. “Ahh, we’re not done here. Turn that off.” Yuuri turned off the alarm. “Maybe you can get a nice wig, too.”

“I don’t need a wig.”

"Okay, but hear me out: You can get a new wig," Khoudia justified. "And it could be black, or it could be a pretty pastel color."

“I want to look like a normal girl. Not a cosplayer.”

“Then get a long, black wig.” Khoudia yawned. “You have a fat baby face. You’ll pass with a long wig.” Yuuri yawned and scrunched up their face. “You’re going to look great. Believe me.”

“I regret this already.”

“Don’t.” Khoudia kissed Yuuri’s forehead. “You’re such a pretty girl.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. They yawned.

“Do you have breast forms already?” Yuuri shook their head. “You’ll need those to go in your bra. You’re like what? A 38C? Your chest isn’t that broad.” Khoudia started to bite the side of her thumb. “Also, you might need some shapewear. You already have hips, but you’ll need more booty.” Yuuri blinked.

"Is all of this necessary?"

“Yes,” Khoudia said. She sat up and looked at Yuuri. 

“I don’t want to feel like a faker.”

“And you’re not. You are valid.” Yuuri shrugged. "You are beautiful, and I will validate you until the day I die. But then I'll be a ghost, and my ghost will validate you. So there will never be a moment in which you aren't validated." Khoudia got off the bed. "I should probably get upstairs now, but we can continue this later." Yuuri sat up to hug Khoudia. 

“I love you so much, Khoudia.”

“And I love you, too.” Khoudia patted Yuuri’s back and ruffled their hair. “I have to get back upstairs now, but I love you, you are great, and you are valid.” Yuuri nodded. Khoudia kissed their forehead for the final time this morning and left the room.

Yuuri sighed and went to turn off the lights. They crawled back into bed. Yuuri reached for their phone and scrolled through their photos; they stopped at the pictures from the park. Yuuri realized two things looking at them: 1) that they _do_ look dead – or, at least, vastly different from how they look now, and 2) the look in Victor’s eyes hasn’t changed at all. He still has that lovey, enamored look in their eyes. Yuuri looked at the photos and closed their eyes. At that moment, they felt disgusted and felt disgusted for feeling this disgust. Victor didn't deserve this, and Yuuri knew what they’d have to do. They felt terrible for it, but it had to be done.

And so, Yuuri closed their eyes and tried to get their mind off of Victor’s shiny, lovey, turquoise eyes.

#

**(Friday, 11 December 2015 – 7:22am, Marseille, France)**

“Yuuri!” Khoudia said from the other side of the door. She knocked at the door repeatedly. Yuuri felt strangely groggy, but they forced themselves out of bed and went to answer it. Khoudia was dressed and holding her coat. “Breakfast!”

“I just woke up,” Yuuri said. “Are your parents already ready?” Khoudia shook her head.

“My mom just got up, too,” Khoudia said. She came in and put her coat on the back of the chair. She turned the chair around and faced it towards Yuuri's bed. She sat down. "So when I went upstairs earlier, I was thinking about if there are any Sephora stores in the area."

“And?” Yuuri rubbed their eyes and sat on their bed.

“Do you want the good news or bad news first?” Yuuri shrugged. “Actually, that question was irrelevant. If I format it in the way of bad news first, it throws off the entire thing.” Khoudia haphazardly gestured. Yuuri's eyes lolled, and they leaned backward. "The good news is that there are several! The bad news is that the closest ones are a 45-minute walk away." Yuuri nodded. "I thought that we could go and get you some quality eyeliner now rather than wait to get back home."

“I think I would prefer to go to the Sephora at home. After I’ve had time to explain everything to Phichit.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He already knows.” Yuuri sat up and blinked. “I was excited. Let me be excited about things.”

“Great, now Phichit is going to tell Adé –”

“By the way, Phichit and Adé want to come with us when we shop.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “Adé insisted that we need a man’s opinion, and he offered to help carry the bags.” Yuuri pursed their lips. “And Phichit wants to come to be moral support and get footage.”

“What next? Masabeeh and Tal’at want to come?”

"Now that I think about it, Masabeeh and Tal'at _should_ come!” Khoudia shot up. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner! Tal’at can help with picking out underwear, and Masabeeh can help me with getting the right colors for you! We can all help you look your best!”

“Dear God,” Yuuri murmured.

“I’ll beg my Dad to let me use the car. We’re going to have a lot of bags anyway.” Yuuri put their head in their hands. “Also, we’re going to have to go to Canada.” Yuuri blanched. “The Devonshire Mall has some nice shops. It would be a shame if we _didn't_ go there.”

"Khoudia, is any of this necessary?"

“Yes! It’s _very_ necessary!” Khoudia went to Yuuri’s suitcase and knelt in front of it.

“What are you doing now?”

“I need to get a sense of what you wear _now_ and see if that can translate to looking femme.” Khoudia unzipped Yuuri’s suitcase and started to unpack and unfold clothes. “So far? I think you already own a lot of femme clothes – if your pastels, harem pants, and florals are anything I can go by.” Khoudia held up a pair of pants. “Maybe we can get you some jeans, too.”

“I already have jeans.”

“They make you look male. You have to accentuate what hips you do have. And if you let me get you _gaines_ , we can try to work around the fact that your normal jeans don’t accentuate your hips.”

“But I just want dresses.” Khoudia looked back at Yuuri.

“And we’ll _get_ you cute dresses. But it's cold, and you don't wear midi dresses when it's cold."

“You do,” Yuuri pointed out.

“Okay, but I’m a hoe so,” Khoudia said. “When you level up in the life of hoe, you can wear midi dresses when it’s 10ºF out. You have to be a certain level hoe to not get cold in a thot dress.” Yuuri rolled their eyes.

“And I’m not at that level?”

“You have to convince someone that you didn’t get fingered in a movie theatre to be on that level.” Yuuri made a face. “It’s a long story,” Khoudia said as she turned towards Yuuri’s clothes. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“I need to know about this fingering story,” Yuuri said. They turned towards Khoudia. Yuuri felt their spine crack.

“I’ll tell you later. Get ready for breakfast.”

“But in a movie theatre?”

“ _Yes_ , in a movie theatre.” Khoudia refolded a shirt and placed it on top of a pair of jeans. “Now, go get ready.” Yuuri acquiesced to Khoudia’s subtle command. Yuuri had a lot to think about: this group shopping effort, which has the potential to be a disaster, Victor, the Grand Prix and not disappointing everyone, what they’re going to do regarding Olivia, etc. So Yuuri forced themselves into the bathroom to shower despite not having the motivation to do so.

#

**(Friday, 11 December 2015 –** **8:23am, Marseille, France)**

The shower went… less than favorably. Yuuri didn’t feel relieved or clean or pure or less groggy after their shower; instead, they felt dirtier and fuzzier than before. A longer shower wasn’t in the cards. Yuuri had to get out in time for breakfast with Khoudia’s parents. Khoudia was sitting on Yuuri's bed; her phone plugged up to their laptop. She yawned.

“Finally, you’re out of the shower," she said. “I was wondering if I had to send out a party for you.”

"Well, I'm out now. You can lay your concerns to rest."

“What is it with you and my dad taking these long showers?” Yuuri shrugged and put on their shirt – the pièce de résistance. “Are you _really_ going to wear that?” Khoudia was referring to the shirt they bought in Moscow. Yuuri nodded. Khoudia just blinked. “Alright, then. Wear that ugly shirt.”

“It’s not ugly. Just look at it!” Yuuri posed for Khoudia, and she rolled her eyes. "Look at how the light does the thing on this part!" Yuuri pointed to the silvery sections of the shirt. “And look at the blues on this part!” Yuuri pointed to the various shades of blue. “And it’s so soft! Touch it!” Yuuri ran to Khoudia and leaned in. Khoudia begrudgingly touched Yuuri’s soft, versicolored shirt. Yuuri pulled Khoudia’s head to their chest. “Touch it with your face! It’s softer that way!” Khoudia did as Yuuri said and rubbed her face up and down the shirt.

“I don’t see the appeal.” She shrugged. “Are you done getting ready? My dad called while you were dressing.” Yuuri nodded. "Remember to put on a scarf and wear your hat properly, so my mom doesn't lay into us again." 

“If I remember correctly, she was more so laying into _you_ rather than _me_.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. She looked over at Yuuri's flowers and picked them up to examine them. “Where’d you get these from? You didn’t buy any flowers with me last night.”

“Victor gave them to me last night. They said that the flowers reminded him of me.” Yuuri sat on the bed and looked at their flowers. They smiled.

“That’s so sweet!” Khoudia gushed. “Victor is so sweet!” Khoudia slid onto the floor and groaned. “Why is he so sweet?!”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. They placed their flowers back on the nightstand. "I have no clue what I did to deserve someone so pure and good, but I have him, and it makes me anxious and afraid." 

“Have you told him that?” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “Right, you don’t tell him anything. Which is a problem.”

“You think I don't know it’s a problem?” Yuuri said. “There’s so much Victor _doesn't_ know about me that he _should_ know about me. But what? He doesn't know, and I feel bad that he doesn't know. I would tell him things, but I don't even know where to start." Khoudia got up and went to her coat. "Are you just going to ignore me now?" Yuuri looked at her put on her coat.

“No. We just need to get downstairs.” Khoudia walked over to Yuuri's coat and hoodie and tossed it to them. “And I don’t know. Does he even know your favorite food?” Yuuri shook their head and put on their hoodie. “I’d start with that. Maybe you can surprise him with it.”

“I won’t be able to make it like my mom does.”

“He won’t know the difference,” Khoudia said. Yuuri went over to the desk to put on their shoes. Khoudia laughed. “He _really_ won’t know the difference. All he’d know and care about is that his theyfriend made him their favorite dish.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and went back over to their coat. They shrugged it on and zipped it up. “Do you have everything?” Yuuri patted their coat pockets. “Are you _sure_?”

“Are you insinuating that I’m missing something and you have it?”

“No, I’m insinuating that you’re a space cadet, and you might not have everything like you think you do.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “But I’ll believe you. You say you have everything? You say you have everything.” Khoudia shrugged and grabbed her phone and her charger. “Let’s go before my parents call.”

And so, Yuuri followed her out of the room and to the elevator.

“Did you lock the door?” Yuuri nodded. Khoudia pressed the down button. Yuuri shifted their weight from their left leg to the right leg and back again. “So, what did you and the Jupiter Conservator do last night?” Khoudia nudged Yuuri’s forcefully. Yuuri laughed.

“Victor laid with me until his coach called for him.” Khoudia smiled. “It was sweet.” Yuuri started laughing again. “What is it with your unnatural curiosity about what Victor and I do when we’re together?”

“I want to know that you’re happy and okay when you’re with him,” Khoudia explained. “Let me live.” Yuuri chuckled.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay when I’m with him?” Yuuri questioned. “Victor hasn’t done anything that made me feel _not_ okay. He’s a great guy.” Yuuri sighed. “He’s too great.” Khoudia looked over at Yuuri.

“And you’re perfect for each other.”

“That’s a rather idyllic abstract,” Yuuri said. "In a perfect world, we would be perfect for each other, but we aren't." Khoudia rolled her eyes. 

"Shut up and accept it," Khoudia said. "I don't know what else I can tell you to make you feel better except just simply ‘shut up and accept it.' You two are together, and you're great." The elevator finally came, offering a distraction for the both of them. "You usually use black eyeliner, right?" Yuuri nodded. “We should expand your palate.” Khoudia looped her arm through Yuuri’s. She pushed the button for the first floor. “What is it with you? Why are you like this?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri murmured. Khoudia leaned on Yuuri’s arm.

When they got downstairs, Khoudia’s parents were nowhere to be found. Yuuri kept eyeballing the door, but, no matter how many times Yuuri looked, Mama Awa and Mouhamadou weren’t there.

“Stop looking at the door,” Khoudia said. “They aren’t going to be there, no matter how many times you look.” Yuuri sighed and rolled their pretty eyes. Yuuri checked their phone. They had texts from Phichit and Mari.

> Mari: Is the Grand Prix starting today?
> 
> : It is.
> 
> Mari: Good luck, young one.
> 
> Mari: You can do this.
> 
> : Thank you.
> 
> Mari: So, what are you doing before The Big Thing™?

Yuuri yawned.

> : Going out for breakfast with a rink mate and her family.
> 
> : They aren’t here yet.
> 
> Mari: Why don’t you go out for breakfast by yourself?
> 
> : I don’t feel like it. Plus, I’m already with my rink mate, so I might as well.

Khoudia gently nudged Yuuri to show them a meme from Instagram. Yuuri chuckled. “Who are you texting?” Khoudia asked.

“Mari.” Khoudia nodded. She looked over at Yuuri’s phone. Then Khoudia took out her phone.

> Mari: Well, have a nice big breakfast.
> 
> Mari: Mom is having a viewing party for you.
> 
> : Oh nooo tell her to NOT do that.
> 
> Mari: Lol why?
> 
> : Because I don’t need all of my failings exposed.
> 
> Mari: There’s a taste in my mouth as desperation takes hold.
> 
> : Nice

Khoudia nudged Yuuri again. "My dad said we could just go."

“Why? Did something happen?”

"Mom got her period, and she has hot flashes." Yuuri nodded. Khoudia looped her arm through Yuuri’s again. “So, we can just go.” Yuuri nodded. “Do you want to go to the same café as yesterday, or do you want to try something new?”

“We can go to the same one. They had a pretty plant in there,” Yuuri said. Yuuri got up from their seat and pulled Khoudia up with them. They walked out of the door, arm in arm to the café.

When Yuuri and Khoudia reached the café, it was as sparse as yesterday. They were seated quickly, and they decided on croissants and hot chocolate. When they got their food, Khoudia chose to open up her mouth. 

“I can’t believe Victor was in the café with us yesterday!” Khoudia said before she took a sip of hot chocolate. “That was so exciting!!”

“You didn’t even know about it until I told you.”

“I know, but still!!” Khoudia gushed. “He was there! _We_ were there!” Khoudia moved her hands wildly and almost knocked over her hot chocolate. Yuuri steadied it for her. "Thank you." She breathed. "I'm still in disbelief that that happened!" 

"It's not that exciting," Yuuri said, tearing off a piece of their croissant.

“You’re only saying that because he’s your boyfriend, and you look at him all the time.” Yuuri shrugged. Maybe Khoudia had a point. Maybe Yuuri was immune to the idea of encountering Victor by chance because they see him all the time now. And they _have_ met Victor by chance in the past. Several times in the past. Maybe it’s just wearing off now. Maybe Yuuri is losing interest in their special interest.

“Yuuri!” Khoudia was snapping her fingers in front of Yuuri's face. Yuuri rubbed their face. “You spaced out there.”

  
“Sorry,” Yuuri murmured. They took a sip of chocolate.

“What is it with you?” Yuuri shrugged and kept their cup to their lips. “It’s unlike you to space out like that.” Yuuri shrugged again and looked at their croissant. They didn't want it now. "How have your hallucinations been?"

“Ever-present and ever the annoyance,” Yuuri murmured.

“Aren’t your meds supposed to help you with that?” Yuuri nodded. “Do you need them to be stronger, or do you need them to be changed?” Yuuri shrugged.

“My doctor raised the dosage, so here’s to hoping that it works,” Yuuri said. “But enough about me. How have _you_ been?”

“Well, my mom finally spoke to my doctor about getting me an insulin pump, so here's to hoping that I get it!”

“Why did your mom have to speak to your doctor?”

“Because I wouldn’t,” Khoudia said, matter-of-factly.

“Is she even allowed to go in with you now that you’re an adult?”

“She can come in if I give her permission to.” Yuuri nodded. “I’m really excited about _maybe_ getting an insulin pump. And maybe you won’t have to carry around my supplies anymore if I get it!”

“I think I’ll always be carrying around your supplies,” Yuuri said. “I don’t mind carrying your meter and things.”

“I know, but I feel bad for not carrying it myself.” Yuuri nodded and smiled. “But you know how I am sometimes.” Yuuri chuckled.

“How about this?” Yuuri started. “I still carry around your meter and glucagon even when you get your pump.”

“ _If_ I get my pump.” Khoudia chuckled. “And I think I’d like that. Keep carrying around my supplies.” Yuuri nodded. “So, what do you want to do after breakfast? We haven't had the chance to do much of anything together since we’ve been here.” Yuuri shrugged and bit their lip. “I mean, _yeah,_ we found macarons, but we should do something else.”

"Sightseeing, maybe? I'm pretty sure Phichit wants pictures so he can humblebrag about things." Khoudia chuckled.

"Yes, sightseeing. We have to do that." Khoudia took a big bite of her croissant. "But what else?" She said between her chews. "We can... We can go to a bar. Maybe."

“Will your parents even let you go _to_ a bar?”

“They will if I don't tell them,” Khoudia said. She smirked. “And they will if _you_ don’t tell them.” Khoudia took a large sip of hot chocolate. “And you _won’t_ tell them, will you?”

“I have no reason to,” Yuuri said.

“Good,” Khoudia said. “So, we’re going to go to a bar while we’re here.” She smiled. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to drink with you, though.”

“Why?”

“Parents,” she reminded them. “I don’t know how adept they are at spotting an alcoholic.” Yuuri snickered. “And while I would like to find out, I don’t want to test it, nor do I want to be the guinea pig. Let Fatoumatta be the guinea pig.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said. Khoudia nodded. “Who is ‘Didi’?”

“Adeola,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded. “We call her Didi and Amadou ‘Doudou.’”

“And you’re Kiki,” Yuuri said.

Khoudia nodded. “Yes, I am Kiki. And Fatoumatta is just Fatou.”

“What about Malik, Aida, and Yande?” Yuuri questioned.

"I've called Yande ‘Andy,' but it never stuck." Khoudia shrugged. "We also call Malik 'Mali' but not too often because that little boy stays in trouble." Yuuri nodded. “I _guess_ we could call Aida ‘Dada,’ but nothing I suggest ever sticks. No one listens to me.” Yuuri reached out to gently touch Khoudia’s hand. “At least y’all listen to me.”

"You're the mother, and we raised our children well," Yuuri said. Khoudia started to laugh, and café patrons looked over at them. Yuuri squeezed Khoudia’s hand to signal for her to stop. “We really did raise our kids well.”

"We try our best, and that's all we can do." Khoudia smiled. "That's all we can do." Yuuri nodded. Khoudia looked down at Yuuri’s practically untouched croissant. “Aren’t you going to eat that?” Khoudia moved her hand from under Yuuri’s and pointed at the croissant.

"I'm not hungry anymore." Khoudia made a face. "What?"

“You have to eat something. You’re skating today.”

"I know that, but I'm not hungry." Khoudia rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry."

“At least take two more bites,” Khoudia pleaded. “At least.”

“I don’t know if my stomach can handle two more bites,” Yuuri said.

“At least finish your hot chocolate?” Khoudia suggested. Yuuri looked at their cup and took it in their hands. It was still warm, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Yuuri brought it to their chapped lips, and they took a sip. Khoudia reached into her coat pocket for something. She pulled out a tiny blue container. Blistex. “Here. Your lips are chapped.” Yuuri put their mug down and reached for the Blistex. They applied the balm to their lips and passed Khoudia her Blistex with the cracked top. While Yuuri was holding the Blixtex with the cap on, they ran their finger along the crack. When Khoudia took her Blistex back, Yuuri had worked their thumbnail between the break and the lip of the container. Yuuri returned their attention to the hot chocolate. They grabbed the cup and held it between their palms. They could use it – while it was still warm, that is – to ground themselves since they were feeling so out of it. Yuuri took a sip and let the texture of the hot chocolate wrap around their tongue. When they swallowed, they felt the hot chocolate go down their throat and warm their esophagus and took deep breaths as the sensation stopped. “What are you doing?” Khoudia asked.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?” Khoudia repeated. Yuuri blankly looked at Khoudia and looked down at their cold, pale fingers. Yuuri decided to shrug and return their attention to their hot chocolate. They repeated the process, and Khoudia started snapping her fingers in front of their face again. “You did it again.”

“Did I?” Yuuri said. “I’m just drinking my hot chocolate like you told me to.” Khoudia deadpanned. She sighed and reached for Yuuri’s croissant. Khoudia had finished hers, and Yuuri hadn’t noticed it.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want it?” Khoudia asked.

“I’m sure. I can’t eat it.”

“You _can’t_ eat it, or you don't _want_ to eat it?” Khoudia questioned. Yuuri stopped sipping their hot chocolate and looked at Khoudia. They shrugged and returned to their mindfulness exercise. They resumed sipping and took in the sensations that drinking the hot chocolate brought. “Are you going to keep doing that?” Yuuri nodded. They felt the hot chocolate go down their throat. Khoudia took Yuuri’s croissant and started to eat it. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I told you that I was going to keep doing this,” Yuuri said.

“Not that question,” Khoudia said. “Do you _not_ want to eat, or can you not eat?”

"I told you that I couldn't eat it. I feel sick. We've gone over this." Khoudia rolled her eyes. Yuuri took another sip of hot chocolate. “When are we going to the bar?”

"We can go after you skate if you want." Khoudia took a sip of her hot chocolate after she took a bite of the croissant. "I'll have to figure out what I'm going to tell my parents, but I'll tell them something." Yuuri nodded. Khoudia finished the croissant in no time, while Yuuri was still not done with their hot chocolate. “I got it!” Khoudia said, snapping her fingers. “We’re going out with some skaters. There we go. Perfect excuse.”

“Is it really?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia deadpanned.

“You come up with something better then.”

“No thanks,” Yuuri said, sipping slowly. Khoudia rolled her eyes. Yuuri finally finished their hot chocolate and calmly set down their cup. “I would rather _not_ have to formulate excuses for you.”

“Okay, how about this?” Khoudia started. “How about you tell me what you’d do in my situation?”

“I can’t do that either.”

“And why is that?”

“I wouldn’t be in this situation. I didn’t have many – if any – friends back home.” Khoudia nodded. “Plus, by the time I was in a place where I _would_ be in that situation, I was already in America and living on my own.” Yuuri looked down at their empty cup. “Well, not _alone_ alone, but I was living independently of my parents." Yuuri started to touch Khoudia’s cup. “It’s going to be weird living with my parents again.”

“You’re going back to Japan?”

“I haven’t made that decision yet, but I probably will end up going back. I just don’t know when.”

“Don’t go back,” Khoudia blurted out. Yuuri looked at her and stopped stroking Khoudia’s cup. “We need you.”

“The _onsen_ needs me, too.”

“They’ve been doing well for five years without you. We need you more.” Yuuri sheepishly chuckled.

“The _onsen_ was never well.”

“So, if you don’t go _back_ , nothing will be lost.” Yuuri shook their head and tsk-tsked. “What? Am I misunderstanding your family business situation?” Yuuri sighed. “All I’m saying is that you don’t have to go back because you’ve built a life for yourself here. That’s all. They’ll have to understand that.” Yuuri shrugged and continued to stroke Khoudia’s cup.

“I doubt it, but whatever you say, Kiki,” Yuuri said. “Are you going to finish your hot chocolate?” Khoudia waved her hand, and Yuuri took it. Khoudia didn't have much hot chocolate left, so she felt it reasonable for Yuuri to have it. Yuuri took a sip of the hot chocolate which kept getting colder. Yuuri finished the cold hot chocolate in two sips. “We should head back to the hotel so we can get ready.”

“No,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at her. “So **_you_** can get ready. I skate tomorrow.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “You brought your makeup with you?” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll go with you to your room so you can get ready.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. They got up from their side of the booth. “I’ll pay.” Khoudia nodded. Yuuri went to the counter and waited for the waitress. When she finally came over to Yuuri, Yuuri was struck silent.

“ _What do you want?_ ” The waitress asked. Yuuri looked at her and tried to gesture to their table. Khoudia, being the saint that she is, rushed up and handled the situation. The waitress struggled to understand Khoudia's Senegalese French littered with Wolof, Arabic, and Soninke. Still, the waitress seemed to understand what Khoudia was saying when she took out her wallet, and she kept repeating "resi." Once the waitress gave them their receipt, Yuuri took out their wallet and paid for their breakfast. Then they left.

“Okay, what the _fuck_ was that?” Khoudia asked once they got out of the café. Khoudia took out her phone. “Why did you freeze up like that? You don’t do that.” Yuuri took out their phone and sighed.

> : I don’t know what happened back there.

"Are you okay? That was fucking weird." Yuuri shrugged. They looked at the building front across the street. Khoudia caught on rather quickly at what Yuuri was looking at. Khoudia bit her cheek. "Do you want to go inside?" Khoudia gestured to the door. The building front was unassuming, and the wall to the left of it was covered in graffiti. 

> : Is it even open right now?

“Probably not, but it wouldn’t hurt to check,” Khoudia said. Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s arm and started to drag them along. The street was sleepy and idle, and there were very few cars coming down the road. So Yuuri and Khoudia crossed the street, and Khoudia led Yuuri to the building. She grabbed the door handle and pulled at it. It didn’t budge. “Huh, it isn’t open.” Khoudia let go of Yuuri’s arm and stepped back to look at the sign. “I think it’s a nightclub,” Khoudia said. “Maybe we can come here after you skate.”

> : Should we really come somewhere that’s by the hotel?

Yuuri nudged Khoudia and gestured to their phone. She looked at the message notification. "Probably not. My parents might see us, and my mom might drag us out by our ears." Yuuri nodded. “We’ll need a bar that’s further from the hotel.” Yuuri nodded again. Khoudia looped her arm through Yuuri's, and they started to walk through the park to get back to the hotel. "Are you excited about tonight?" Khoudia asked. Yuuri shook their head. “Tonight is going to be great. I believe in you, and so does everyone at home.” Yuuri shrugged. “What were you talking to your sister about?”

> : She wanted to wish me luck and tell me that our mom is having a viewing party for this. I wish that someone would've called and told me beforehand.

“I mean, it _is_ technically beforehand,” Khoudia said. “It’s before the Grand Prix so.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. Khoudia patted her pocket and stopped in her tracks.

> : What?

Khoudia didn’t say anything and continued to pat her various pockets. “Where’s my phone?” She questioned. Yuuri rolled their eyes again and brought Khoudia’s hand to her face. “Oh,” she said. Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Don’t judge me. Neither of us is on our A game this morning.” Yuuri rolled their eyes again. Khoudia looked at them and reached for their forehead. “How are the voices right now?”

“Terrible,” Yuuri murmured.

“Do you want to go back to the hotel so you can get some rest? Would resting make the voices go away?”

“Not necessarily,” Yuuri murmured. “The voices come and go as they wish. All I can do is wait it out.” Khoudia patted Yuuri’s forehead and got off of her toes. “But, if resting will make you feel better, I will rest for your sake.”

“Thank you,” Khoudia said. She pecked Yuuri on the cheek and smiled. “Do you want me to stay with you? Because I will stay with you for as long as you need me to.” Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s hands.

"You can stay if you wish."

“Then I’ll stay.”

So Yuuri and Khoudia walked back to the hotel in half-assed silence. Khoudia kept talking to distract Yuuri from the voices – which was admirable, on Khoudia’s part, but it wasn’t as effective as last time. The voice that sounded like Yuuri’s grandfather was being very graphic about what they want Yuuri to do, and that scared them. Even in death, their grandfather frightened them. Yuuri was terrified of their grandfather, and their grandfather’s voice and Khoudia was trying to distract them, but it wasn’t working. Combined with the guilt of hurting Victor previously and preparing to hurt him some more, the voice of Yuuri’s grandfather was telling them to kill themselves for bringing various shames to the family. Yuuri already knew that they’re bringing shame to the family, and they understood that they could never go back and undo what they’ve done.

Nor does Yuuri _want_ to undo everything.

They felt that indelible connection that they have with Victor and they didn’t want to have to cut Victor off because of something arbitrary.

Which is ironic coming from them because that's what they’re going to do.

Before Yuuri knew it, they were back at the hotel with Khoudia. They were in front of their hotel room door, and Khoudia was digging in Yuuri’s pocket, looking for their keycard. When Yuuri caught on, they reached into their sweatpants pocket and gave it to Khoudia. She opened the door for Yuuri and led them inside. Yuuri went to their bed and started to take off their shoes. Khoudia sat next to them and did the same. As quickly as Khoudia began, she stopped and looked at Yuuri. That made Yuuri stop doing what they were doing.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri muttered.

“You look stiff. Do you want to stretch before you rest?” Yuuri shook their head and bent down to undo their left shoelace. They gave up once their fingers got tangled in their laces. “Do you need help?” Khoudia asked. She bent down and started to untangle Yuuri’s fingers and laces. “Are you getting bad again?” Khoudia looked up at Yuuri with her pretty eyes. Yuuri wanted to kiss her face until the worry was gone.

“Too soon to tell,” Yuuri murmured. “But I think I’ll be fine.” Yuuri yawned. Khoudia returned to undoing Yuuri’s shoes. She got on her knees and pulled Yuuri’s shoes off. Yuuri looked down at their feet. They were in disbelief that they were attached to their body. At that moment, they wanted to cut off their feet. They didn’t feel like they were there – so, following that logic, if they aren't there, they will not be missed. Besides, what use do feet serve anyway?

“Yuuri?” Khoudia was snapping her fingers in Yuuri’s face. Yuuri reached out for Khoudia’s wrist and grabbed it. “You spaced out there. I was asking you something.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia’s face. If Yuuri was reading everything right, she was worried. Extremely worried. “Are you sure you want to skate tonight?” Yuuri slowly nodded. “Are you _sure_?”

“How many times must I say ‘yes’?” Yuuri murmured.

“I’m just making sure. You don’t seem like you’re able to do much.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. "I'm asking because I'll help you get out of skating – if you want me to. I'll push you into traffic to get you out of this." 

“I’ll be fine,” Yuuri mumbled. They pulled off their hoodie and got stuck in it. Khoudia didn’t wait for Yuuri to say anything. She leaped up and helped Yuuri take off their sweater. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But I _want_ to do this,” Khoudia said. “I told Phichit when we were in Moscow that I would be your caretaker.”

"That was then; this is now."

“A caretaker’s job is never done.” Khoudia took Yuuri’s hoodie and started to fold it. “So that means that I am not done. I will never be done. Now take off your pants.” Yuuri did as Khoudia said and took off their pants.

“Do you want my layers?”

“If you wish,” Khoudia said. She took Yuuri’s clothes and folded them. Yuuri kept on their layers and moved to the center of the bed. They drew their knees to their chest and placed their forehead on their knees. Khoudia finished folding Yuuri’s clothes and sat next to them. She lovingly stroked their back. “Do you want to lay down?” Yuuri nodded. “Get up so I can pull back the covers.” Yuuri did as Khoudia said. She pulled back the covers for Yuuri. They slowly got in bed and laid down. Khoudia got in bed next to Yuuri. Yuuri laid supine on their back; Khoudia laid on her side, facing Yuuri. She stroked Yuuri’s face tenderly. “And you want to skate tonight?” Yuuri nodded. “Okay,” Khoudia said. “You can skate tonight, I guess. I just don’t think it’ll be a good idea for you to do so.” Yuuri shrugged.

So Yuuri and Khoudia laid in bed. Khoudia easily drifted off into sleep while Yuuri laid there, looking at the ceiling, wanting to be taken off of this miserable planet.

#

**(Friday, 11 December 2015 –** **6:09pm, Marseille, France)**

Yuuri managed to go to sleep eventually. Sleep was not the cure-all elixir that Yuuri was half-heartedly seeking, nor did Yuuri feel that they were more capable of taking on tonight. The closer the time came to skate, the more they thought that they were unable to do anything.

Yuuri was sitting in their dressing room, avoiding catching eyes with their reflection. Khoudia saw and understood this. Then she had Yuuri turn their back to the mirror as she did their eyeliner and mascara. "I still don't think you should do this," Khoudia said. "You seem really out of it, and I don't want this to impact your skating."

“I’ll be fine,” Yuuri murmured.

“Are you _sure_?” Khoudia uncapped the eyeliner and looked back at Coach Cialdini. She turned back around and went to work on Yuuri’s right eye. “I know I keep asking you, but you lack conviction in your words.”

“You shouldn’t have made me come then.”

“I wouldn’t have made you come to this if I had known this would’ve happened to you.” Khoudia put down the eyeliner and reached for the mascara. “If you want me to, I’ll give you a concussion just to get you out of this.”

“Khoudia, don’t do that,” Coach Cialdini said.

“But Yuuri isn’t well enough to be here!” Yuuri flinched at the sound of Khoudia’s voice. Khoudia took Yuuri into her arms and cradled their head. “They’re a wreck! I wouldn’t have made them come if I knew this would happen!”

“Hindsight is 20/20. We must focus on the now,” Coach Cialdini said. “Yuuri is right here. He has to skate.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want to be embarrassed,” Khoudia retorted.

“Why, yes,” Coach Cialdini said. “I _don’t_ want to be embarrassed. Yuuri _is_ going to skate tonight.”

“At the expense of their mental health?” Khoudia questioned. “You have to acknowledge that this isn’t the best situation for them to be in.”

“As shaky as Yuuri’s mental health is, I am certain that he can pull through tonight.” Khoudia glowered at Coach Cialdini. “I understand that you are concerned about him, but it’s too late now. He has to skate no matter how much you don’t want him to.” Khoudia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, Khoudia.” Khoudia let go of Yuuri’s head and sighed. She returned to doing their makeup.

And, while that was happening, the voice of Yuuri’s grandfather was yelling at them in his brusque, Hyōgo dialect. When Khoudia was doing Yuuri's eyeliner on the left eye, she noticed that tears were welling up.

“Ciao Ciao, this entire situation is making Yuuri cry.” Khoudia reached for the napkins and dabbed Yuuri’s eyes. “You really shouldn’t make them do this.” Khoudia kissed Yuuri’s forehead and continued to dab at their eyes. “Don’t make them do this.” Khoudia wiped her eyes and sniffled.

“Are you crying?” Yuuri mumbled. Khoudia wiped her eyes again and shook her head.

"I'm fine," she said after she cleared her throat. "I'm fine." She took a deep breath and returned to the eyeliner. She squatted down in front of them and started to go over the areas that were taken off by the napkin. She took another deep breath and strived to avoid looking into Yuuri’s eyes.

When Khoudia finished Yuuri’s makeup, Yuuri pulled Khoudia into a hug. She wrapped her arms around Yuuri and squeezed Yuuri tight. “I’ll be fine, Khoudia.” Khoudia buried her face in Yuuri’s neck. “I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry about me,” they said. “Please don’t worry.”

“I’ll try,” Khoudia said. “But a mother has to look after her family. My job is never done.”

“Your jobs are never done,” Yuuri mumbled. Khoudia let go of Yuuri and kissed their forehead. And Khoudia continued to kiss Yuuri’s forehead until it was time for them to go on.

#

**(Friday, 11 December 2015 –** **7:03pm, Marseille, France)**

Yuuri’s skating was an absolute and utter disaster. Their jumps and spins were flubs, but their step sequence was passable – but just barely. Yuuri was at the kiss and cry with Coach Cialdini. Yuuri was crying, and they couldn’t _stop_ crying. Coach Cialdini was trying to console Yuuri, but nothing Coach Cialdini could say was working. Yuuri wiped their pretty eyes with their wrists and smudged their eyeliner.

“You did well, Yuuri,” Coach Cialdini said.

“Why are you lying to me?” Yuuri murmured. “We _all_ know I did appallingly.” Yuuri wiped their eyes again. They sniffled. “I can never show my face again.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Coach Cialdini said. “ _Il mondo non e finito, bambino._ ”

“What does that mean?” Yuuri sniffled and looked up at their coach.

“The world is not over, child,” he said. “There is always tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day.” Yuuri rubbed their eyes again. “To the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to a dusty death.” Coach Cialdini deadpanned. “Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury – signifying nothing.”

“Yuuri?” Coach Cialdini said.

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri nodded. “Either start quoting Petrarch or shut up.”

“That’s understandable,” Yuuri said. They wiped their eyes again and sniffled. “I’ll learn Petrarch just to quote it for you.” Yuuri sheepishly chuckled and rubbed their eyes. They were trying to take the edge off of being an absolute failure like their grandfather’s voice insisted, but it was still there. Their grandfather's voice was still there, and he was going in harder on Yuuri. Yuuri sighed and put their head in their hands.

“Sit up. Your scores are coming in.” Yuuri did as their coach asked and sat up straight. They got their scores and felt the tears come back. They were lower than what Yuuri expected. Yuuri wiped their eyes and tried to steady their breathing. “ _Il mondo non e finito, bambino_ ,” Coach Cialdini said as he patted Yuuri’s back. Yuuri nodded and practiced their deep breathing as Luzia and Noêmia taught them. Coach Cialdini ran the palm of his big, hairy hand up and down Yuuri’s back. Yuuri continued to wipe their eyes and breathe deeply. Their scores were terrible, their grandfather’s voice was going in on them, and they couldn’t stop shaking. God, they couldn’t stop shaking. “It’s time for your interviews,” Coach Cialdini said.

“Do I have to talk?” Coach Cialdini nodded. “Then let’s get this over with, I suppose,” Yuuri mumbled. So Yuuri and Celestino left the kiss and cry to get pummeled with questions about their dreadful performance.

#

**(Friday, 11 December 2015 – 7:50pm, Marseille, France)**

Yuuri split with Coach Cialdini after the interviews and went to find Khoudia. Khoudia was where Yuuri expected her to be: in their dressing room. Yuuri didn't know how Khoudia managed to get away from her parents, but she did, and Yuuri was grateful. Khoudia was taking mirror selfies when Yuuri came in.

“Yuuri!” She squealed. She put down her phone and went to approach Yuuri. She reached up for their forehead. “Are you okay?” Yuuri shrugged and sighed. They went to the chair where Coach Cialdini would sit and started to take off their shoes. “Do you want to talk?”

“Not really,” Yuuri mumbled.

“You skated very nice tonight,” Khoudia said, trying to cheer her rink mate up.

“Stop lying,” Yuuri said. Khoudia sighed. She got on her knees and started to untie Yuuri's shoes. "My skating tonight was terrible, and we all know it." Khoudia sighed and shrugged. "I don't want to do this again."

“And I want to help you get out of this. But you have to let me help you get out of this.” Yuuri looked down at Khoudia.

“What ideas do you have?” Yuuri questioned. “If your idea is to push me into traffic… continue.” Their interest was piqued.

“Well, aside from pushing you into traffic, I was thinking that we get you sick. Really sick. Pneumonia sick.” Khoudia yanked off Yuuri’s shoes. “Maybe you can jump into the Old Port and let you walk around in wet clothes.”

“I think your mom would yell at us for that,” Yuuri said. “What else do you have?” Khoudia pulled off Yuuri’s other shoe; Yuuri stood and undid their pants. Khoudia passed Yuuri their other pants and turned around.

"We can tell Ciao Ciao that your ankles are swollen, and you can't put any weight on them." Yuuri nodded. "And your legs are extremely weak and your bones hurt. And your back is numb. Basically, the lower half of your body is shot to hell, and you can't skate." Yuuri nodded again.

“Khoudia, ma cherie, that sounds like a lovely idea and one that cannot be easily refuted, but my grandfather’s voice –” Khoudia looked at Yuuri and nodded. Yuuri wiped their eyes.

“You’re smudging your eyeliner, babes,” Khoudia said. Yuuri wiped their eyes again. “Do you want to go out tonight? We don’t have to go out tonight if you don’t want to.”

“If you want to go, we will go,” Yuuri mumbled. “I won’t be much fun, but we can go.”

“Yuuri?” Khoudia said, turning around and grabbing their hand. “We don’t have to go.” She patted Yuuri’s shoulders. “Now get dressed. Don’t you want to watch Victor and Christophe skate?” Yuuri shook their head. “No? Not even a little bit?” Yuuri shook their head. “My mom would like to see you,” Khoudia cajoled. “I’m sure she’d have nothing but nice things to say about tonight.”

“No, she won’t,” Yuuri murmured.

“Yuuri, my parents know next to nothing about figure skating. I'm pretty sure my parents are going to tell you that you did amazing tonight.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. "They know nothing about figure skating except that it's on ice. They'll be very supportive." 

“I guess,” Yuuri mumbled. “So, your parents are in the stands?” Khoudia nodded. “I guess I could sit with you and your family.” Khoudia smiled. Yuuri did their pants and took off their costume top. They passed it to Khoudia and shivered.

“I’m sure Mama and Daddy will be happy to see you,” Khoudia said. She folded Yuuri’s costume top and placed it in their bag. “Do you want to go back to the hotel to drop off your equipment?” Yuuri nodded and put on their shirt; they reached for their sports jacket and put it on. Khoudia folded their pants and put them in their costume bag. Yuuri put their regular shoes back on, and Khoudia tied them. 

“Thank you,” Yuuri mumbled. Yuuri got up and stretched. Khoudia grabbed Yuuri’s coat for them and helped them put it on. “Thank you.” Khoudia stood on her toes to the best of her ability and kissed Yuuri on the forehead. Yuuri smiled. It was a small and awkward smile, but it was a smile, nonetheless. Khoudia opened the door.

“Maybe we can see Victor – oh, hello, Victor!” Khoudia said. She reached out for Yuuri’s arm to drag them closer to the door.

“Hello, Khoudia,” Victor said. They followed Khoudia’s arm with their eyes and peeked behind the door. “Hello, Yuuri.” Yuuri made a face. Victor looked at Yuuri, bewildered. “Aren’t you going to respond?” Yuuri shook their head. Victor blinked. Khoudia kicked at Yuuri’s shins. Khoudia’s small legs couldn’t reach them.

“Respond,” she harshly whispered. Yuuri shook their head and started to play with the strap of their costume bag. “I’m so sorry, Victor,” Khoudia apologized. “Yuuri’s having an off day.”

“I can tell,” Victor said. “Well, I’d like to know if I can see you after tonight’s events.” Yuuri hesitated on shaking their head. “May I?” Yuuri looked over at Khoudia.

“Don’t let me impact your decisions. I’ll probably be playing awélé with my dad or something.” Khoudia patted Yuuri’s back gently.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri mumbled. “Can I tell you about my decision later?”

“Why, I don’t see why not,” Victor said. They reached for Yuuri’s hand. It was kind of like holding a dead fish. “Um, I should get going now. But remember to text me!” Yuuri nodded and removed their hand from Victor’s. Victor left Yuuri and Khoudia as quickly as he came. Yuuri let themselves breathe. Then they looked at Khoudia. She seemed to be seething with some feeling.

“What the fuck was that?” Yuuri shrugged and exited the room with their costume bag. They made a mental note to look up “awélé” when they had the chance. “He was trying to be with you after a stressful night.”

“I do not need his sympathy,” Yuuri mumbled. Khoudia stepped out of the dressing room and followed after Yuuri.

"Is it sympathy if it's your boyfriend?" Khoudia questioned. "He's trying to be there for you emotionally, and you're spurning him. You don't do that."

“You must not know me very well,” Yuuri mumbled. “Spurning and disappointing people are two things I do best.” Khoudia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

"Are you still going to watch tonight's events with my parents and me?" Yuuri nodded. “That’s nice.” Yuuri shrugged. “And you remember to text Victor and tell him that you’re going to see him when tonight is over.”

“And? What if I don’t want to see him?” Khoudia deadpanned. “What?”

“Don’t be like that to him. I’m sure that after some TLC from Victor you’ll be better. Not a lot better, but just a little bit better.”

“Love is not a cure-all for mental problems,” Yuuri said. “Plus, I think being around Victor would only make several of my problems worse.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. Yuuri held the front door of the stadium open for Khoudia. Yuuri didn’t know how Khoudia got stuck with their equipment, and they had half a mind to relieve her of this burden. Khoudia exited the building, and Yuuri followed behind her.

“I don’t understand what you mean. How would being around him make things worse?” Yuuri sighed. They didn’t have to want to explain their grandfather’s voice to anyone that wasn’t Luzia or Noêmia, but it seemed that they’d have to. So Yuuri explained the voice to her despite the other voices pleading for Yuuri not to. When Yuuri finished explaining it, they were at the hotel entrance. “So, your voices generally don’t like Victor, or is it just your grandpa’s voice?”

“Just my grandfather. The other voices are generally indifferent about him.” Yuuri pushed the up button for the elevator. “I would think that the other voices would be wild about him, but I guess not. But I guess indifference is preferable to raging queerphobia.”

“How does your grandpa’s voice feel about what we’re going to do when we get home?”

“He doesn’t like it at all.”

“We’re still doing it, though,” Khoudia said. “Your grandpa be damned. Your happiness supersedes him. Well, his voice.” Khoudia made a face. “He _is_ dead, right?”

“Very,” Yuuri said. The elevator came, and they stepped on. Khoudia pressed the button for the fifth floor. 

“My point still stands. You don’t have to worry about him anymore. Spread your legs and fly.” Yuuri looked over at Khoudia as the elevator door closed. She didn’t catch what she said, nor did she seem to care to amend it. “Oh!” Khoudia reached into her pocket. She took out Yuuri’s phone. “Here. Talking must be getting exhausting for you.” Yuuri unlocked their phone.

> : Thank you. I was getting very tired of trying to talk louder than what I’m capable of.

“Not a problem, baby,” Khoudia said. “So we’re going to go shopping – with Phichit’s blessing, of course – and we’re doing this despite your hallucinations and to spite your grandpa.”

> : Should we be spiting a dead man?

“I don’t see why not,” Khoudia said. “What is he going to do? Haunt us?” Yuuri blinked at Khoudia. “Don’t look at me like that.” The elevator stopped on the third floor. A ghost got on. “And you’re going to stay with Victor despite everything.”

> : Why?

"You gotta," Khoudia simply said. "You two are super cute together, and you make each other happy. Don't forsake him because of your trash mental health." The elevator stopped on the fifth floor. Yuuri and Khoudia got off, and Khoudia led Yuuri to their room. Yuuri had the keycard ready for Khoudia, and they opened the door. Khoudia left Yuuri's equipment by the door, and Yuuri placed their costume bag on their bed.

> : But Victor deserves someone who can satisfy him.

“And you _don’t_ satisfy him?” Khoudia arched an eyebrow.

“No,” Yuuri plainly said. “Well, not emotionally. Not in the way that is best for him.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. Yuuri took off their coat and sat on the bed to untie their shoes. “He needs someone who can give him something stable and be honest with him. Two things that I already can’t give him. On top of that, I don’t want to make him deal with some idiot who can barely tie their shoes and has a panic attack a day. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“But that’s what he wants. So give him what he wants.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and kicked off their shoes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. And don’t you dare do what I think you’re going to do.” Yuuri shrugged and got up to the desk to get their sneakers. Yuuri grabbed them and returned to the bed.

> : What was I going to do?

Khoudia rolled her eyes. Yuuri forced their shoes on and held their feet out so that Khoudia could tie their laces. Khoudia sat on the bed and placed Yuuri’s feet in her lap. She tied their shoes quickly and easily, and Yuuri was in awe of Khoudia for merely being Khoudia. Yuuri loved Khoudia. She was kind, caring, supportive (in her distinctive, neurodivergent way), and an all-around delight. The love wasn't one-sided, either. They loved each other like they'd love their families, and that was all Yuuri could ever want from their darling Kiki. "Don't break up with Victor is all I'm saying. He knows what he wants, and that's you – all of you."

“He doesn’t know what he wants. I’m only a passing interest for him,” Yuuri murmured.

“And you know what’s best for him?” Khoudia questioned.

“In this situation, yes,” Yuuri said. “He doesn’t know what he’s getting into, and I’m trying to spare him future heartache.”

“You’re projecting.” Yuuri arched an eyebrow. “I think that’s the term.”

"I'm not projecting. I'm trying to spare him, and you're in the way of it." Khoudia made a face.

“If I find out that you broke up with Victor, I’m going to stab you.” All Yuuri and their hallucinations could think were "good," and that was going to be the first and last time they all agreed on something. Khoudia finished tying Yuuri’s shoes. She patted their knees. “Okay, you can get up now.” Yuuri did as Khoudia said and reached for their coat. Khoudia passed it to Yuuri, and Yuuri slowly put it on. Khoudia got up and zipped Yuuri’s coat. “Do you have everything?” Yuuri nodded. “Then let us go.” Khoudia grabbed Yuuri by the hand and led them out of their room.

The walk back to the rink was quicker than expected. Or maybe Yuuri's discernment of time was off. Perhaps everything was blurring together, and the perception of time was moving fast was part of everything blurring and congealing into an amorphous mass of fuck.

Khoudia got lost several times trying to find her parents, but, when they found them, Khoudia asked for Yuuri’s phone. Unlocked, of course. She also took Yuuri’s glasses off so they couldn’t peep at what she was doing. Yuuri could, however, gather that she was texting someone from their phone. And Yuuri could guess that she was, once again, texting Victor on their (begrudging) behalf.

They made it back in time to see Christophe’s full short routine. Yuuri would say that it was mesmerizing if they had their glasses on them. Yuuri asked Khoudia for their glasses back, but she refused to give them back, _and_ she put them in her mother’s purse. So Yuuri wasn't going to get their glasses back anytime soon.

So Yuuri sat there, visually impaired and all.

#

**(Friday, 11 December 2015 – 8:01pm, Marseille, France)**

So Yuuri and Khoudia left Mama Awa and Mouhamadou and went “in search of” their fellow skaters. In reality, Yuuri and Khoudia were going to go to the café they go to for breakfast and figure out what they were going to do from there. It was colder than Yuuri remembered, and that made them not want to be anywhere, but they had decided to go out so they might as well go out.

“Yuuri,” Khoudia said, “give me your phone.” Yuuri did not see any point in arguing with Khoudia, so they did as she asked. Khoudia reached into her pocket and gave Yuuri their glasses back. They put them on gingerly and looked at the world with capable eyes. They looked at Khoudia and made a face. Khoudia gave Yuuri their phone back; they checked their messages.

> : I've made up my mind, and I want to see you tonight.
> 
> Victor: Great!! Now watch me skate.
> 
> : I will ((sparkling heart emoji))
> 
> : Actually, I'm not able to be with you tonight. Khoudia and I are going out tonight, and I completely forgot.
> 
> Victor: For shame. I was looking forward to seeing you tonight. I wanted to kiss your temples and look at your face.
> 
> : I know, and I wish I could be with you so you could kiss my temples and look at my face.

Yuuri locked their phone. Their phone immediately buzzed.

> Victor: Tomorrow then, maybe?
> 
> Victor: I can’t wait to get home. I want to be with you during the day.
> 
> : I want to be with you during the day, too.
> 
> Victor: Are we still going to watch anime after the events tomorrow?
> 
> : Yes

Yuuri put their phone back in their pocket. "Okay," Khoudia said, "I'm looking up nearby bars right now. So far, there's this one that's called ‘Glam Rock,' and it's a sixteen-minute walk from the hotel." Yuuri nodded. Yuuri took out their phone to send Khoudia a text.

> : Do you think people dressed like Elton John and 70s David Bowie there will be there?

Yuuri looked over at Khoudia and waited for her to check her messages. When she looked at the text, she started cackling. “Oh God, I hope so! And if there isn’t, they need to change their name.” Yuuri snickered. “A damn shame that a place called ‘Glam Rock’ might not have people dressed like Elton John and David Bowie.” Yuuri looked back into the café. It was practically empty. The woman at the register seemed to be bored – if looking at her play with a pen was any indication of her boredom. “We should get back to the hotel and start walking.”

“We should,” Yuuri murmured.

And so they did. After they touched down at the hotel, Khoudia took out her phone again. Yuuri looked down at her and her phone and pointed forward. She scurried off, and Yuuri followed behind her, only having to walk fast with their long legs to catch up to her rushing with her short legs. Khoudia squealed in excitement and some other feeling and grabbed Yuuri’s hand. Tonight seemed like it was going to be a nice night.

When Yuuri and Khoudia got to Glam Rock, it was crowded. Not so crowded that it was bursting at the seams but crowded enough that Khoudia could get lost in the throng of bar patrons. Khoudia picked out a spot at the conspicuously empty bar, and Yuuri followed her there. Yuuri lifted Khoudia onto her seat, and she swung her legs off of the edge of the stool. 

“ _What would you like?_ ” The bartender asked Khoudia in French. She had a wavy, pixie haircut and sparkling blue eyes. She was smiling – borderline smirking – at Khoudia.

“ _Two Caipirinhas_ , _mama,_ ” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked over at her and took out their phone. The bartender nodded and went to make their drinks.

> : What’s a Caipirinha? And why did you call the bartender ‘mama’?
> 
> Khoudia: This Brazilian cocktail. I think you’ll like it.
> 
> Khoudia: Also, she's cute, and I'm tryna mack on her.

Khoudia looked over at Yuuri and smirked. Yuuri just looked at Khoudia. Khoudia started to laugh an,d all Yuuri could do is smile. Yuuri looked to their right and saw a series of tables. There was a man at one of the tables that caught their eye; he had medium-length black hair and smoky quartz-colored eyes. He was wearing a checkered, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and he was in dress pants. Yuuri presumed that he had just come home from work or an unsuccessful date, and he needed to unwind. The man winked at Yuuri, and Yuuri made a face. He smiled. The bartender came back with their Caipirinhas and took a seat. Khoudia took out her Blistex and applied it to her lips. Yuuri rolled their eyes and smiled.

> : So, how are you going to hit on this bartender?
> 
> Khoudia: I have to put the shmooves on her.
> 
> : And? How are you going to do that?
> 
> Khoudia: Tell her that she makes me wish it was crop top and booty short weather year-round. 
> 
> : Oh my god
> 
> Khoudia: Don’t act like you haven’t said worse.

Yuuri looked over at Khoudia, deadpan. She took a sip of her Caipirinha and smiled smugly. “Aren’t you going to take a drink?”

“Oh, this is for me?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t order two Caipirinhas for no reason,” Khoudia said. She took another sip.

“Is it good?”

“I’m drinking it, aren’t I?” Khoudia questioned. Yuuri fixed their mouth to say something, but Khoudia cut them off. “Don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical.” Yuuri nodded and took a sip of their drink. They decided that they liked it. Yuuri looked back in the general direction of the man who had winked at them. He winked at them again. Yuuri wanted to suspect that he had a tic of some sort, but they strongly felt that that wasn’t the case. So Yuuri pointed at themselves, and the man nodded and winked again. Yuuri looked over at Khoudia to see if she saw any of this, but she was focusing on the bartender's butt. 

> : Gay
> 
> Khoudia: Shut up
> 
> : Correction: Thirsty AND gay
> 
> Khoudia: Leave ((clapping emoji)) me ((clapping emoji)) alone ((clapping emoji))

Yuuri snickered and rolled their eyes. Khoudia put down her phone, took a drink, and continued mentally deconstructing – or undressing – the bartender. Khoudia was a soft boy through and through, and sometimes she made no effort to hide it. 

And tonight was one of the nights where she wasn’t trying to hide it.

Yuuri took a sip of their Caipirinha and took out their phone. They had a text from Victor.

> Victor: So, what are you and Khoudia doing tonight?
> 
> : We’re at this bar. So far, I haven’t seen anyone dressed like Gary Glitter or Alvin Stardust. I’m kind of disappointed.
> 
> Victor: What does Gary Glitter and Alvin Stardust have to do with a bar?
> 
> : It’s a bar called “Glam Rock,” and Gary Glitter and Alvin Stardust are two glam rock stars from the 70s.
> 
> : So, the fact that no one is dressed like a 70s rockstar is kind of disappointing.
> 
> : But I’ll live, I guess.
> 
> : [has sent an attachment]

Yuuri sent Victor a selfie of them looking unamused – both by the lack of glam rock cosplayers and the extent of Khoudia's excessive thirst. Yuuri took a sip of their drink and sent a selfie of them taking a drink.

> Victor: My sunshine
> 
> : I’m yours ((heart emoji))

Yuuri took a larger sip of their drink and felt the alcohol burn their chest. They couldn’t keep lying to them like this. Yuuri looked back over at the man; he was drinking a Kronenbourg 1664. Yuuri looked back at Khoudia. She was sipping slowly and scrolling the Internet, searching for pickup lines for musicians. Yuuri rolled their eyes. They sighed. Tonight – although not bad – wasn’t going as Yuuri had half expected it to.

> Victor: You look exhausted.
> 
> Victor: And hot.
> 
> : I know. I’m so tired.
> 
> : And thank you ((star emoji))

Yuuri looked over at Khoudia. She was still thirsting, and she wasn't trying to hide it. Yuuri shook their head in mock disapproval and took a sip. Khoudia finished her drink. “I’m going to go to the bathroom to psych myself up,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded. She leaped off of her stool and walked to the bathroom. After about a minute since Khoudia was gone, that man drinking the Kronenbourg approached Yuuri.

“ _Hey, kitty,_ ” the man said.

“Hello,” Yuuri mumbled. The man leaned on the bar and smirked.

“ _Do you speak English?_ ” Yuuri nodded. “Okay. My English is not good.”

“Nor is mine,” Yuuri said. The man smirked.

“My name is Gabriel. What is your name?”

“Yuuri.” Gabriel nodded and smiled. He had a cute smile. Gabriel took a sip of beer.

“What brings you here, Yuuri?” He smirked. “Why is someone as pretty as you in a place like this?” Gabriel took another sip of beer. “You do not look like the public scene type.”

“I’m not, really,” Yuuri said. "My friend wanted to come out to the bar, so I came with her." Yuuri looked at their Caipirinha and took a sip. “So here I am. In Glam Rock: The Bar Without Cosplayers.” Gabriel made a face and laughed. He didn’t get Yuuri’s joke, but he laughed anyway.

“So, the woman checking out the bartender is your friend?” Yuuri nodded. “She is very attracted to the bartender.”

“She is. Kiki has no sort of chill.” Gabriel smirked. “Nor do you, for that matter,” Yuuri said.

“I am not chill?” Gabriel questioned. “Why am I not chill?”

“You’ve been eyeing me since I’ve been here.” Gabriel shrugged, took a swig of beer, and smirked. “And, now that Kiki is gone, you’ve moved in for the kill and decided to talk to me.” Gabriel smirked.

“What can I say? I could not bear another moment without knowing the kitty’s name.” Yuuri took a sip of their drink. “Your friend is going to make a move on the bartender.”

“She is,” Yuuri said.

“I hope she says yes to your friend’s advances. I want more time with you.” Yuuri took another sip of their drink and started to suck on a piece of ice. Gabriel rested his free hand on Yuuri’s free hand and smiled. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“And you left him at home?” Gabriel questioned. Yuuri slowly nodded. "Quite unfortunate for him, but a blessing for me." Gabriel took a sip of beer. "My girlfriend went out of town to visit her grandmother, so I'm all alone for a while." 

“That’s sad. Is her grandmother okay?”

“Her grandmother is fine. She just wanted to go see her.” Yuuri nodded and took a sip of their Caipirinha. "I do not understand why, but I did not quarrel with her. So she went to Metz, and I stayed here." Gabriel smirked. "I am glad I stayed here. I get to look at you." Yuuri looked at their phone. “So, tell me about this poor boyfriend who’s been deprived of his lover. What brings you to Marseille? Why did you come here with your friend and not your baby? I am dying to know.”

“Well, Kiki and I are here for an event. My baby was too busy to come with me.” Gabriel nodded. “I’m glad he isn’t here, sad as that is to say. We need time apart from each other from time to time.” Gabriel nodded again and took a sip of beer. Gabriel got on the stool to Yuuri's left, and Yuuri swiveled to face them. “Don’t get me wrong. I love him very much, but we could live with being apart from each other for a while.”

“I could understand that,” Gabriel said. “I love my Clara very much, but I want to be by myself, too.”

“You understand me!” Yuuri chirped. They were glad that there was _someone_ that understood them.

“I do understand,” Gabriel said, snickering. “Why do not we be alone together?” Gabriel grabbed Yuuri’s hand and leaned in. Yuuri looked down at Gabriel’s hand; he had a silver ring on his thumb.

“I really shouldn’t. I _do_ have a boyfriend.”

“At least step out with me,” Gabriel pleaded. “We will only go outside. No further.”

“I’ll go outside with you,” Yuuri said. Gabriel smiled. He had a pretty smile – that much Yuuri would admit. Gabriel let go of Yuuri's hand, and Yuuri grabbed their and Khoudia’s glasses and followed Gabriel.

Yuuri and Gabriel were greeted by the cold, December air. Yuuri shivered and clutched the glasses tighter. They took a sip of their drink and ate a piece of ice out of Khoudia’s. Yuuri looked over at Gabriel and watched him light a cigarette. “Do you smoke, Yuuri?” Gabriel asked.

“Not often.”

“Do you want a cigarette?”

“I’ll take one.” And so, Gabriel put the first lit cigarette between his lips. He reached back into the carton and produced another one and placed it between Yuuri’s lips. He lit it, and Yuuri placed their glass over Khoudia’s. They took a drag and put it between their fingers. Then they closed their eyes; they felt lightheaded, but it felt like a good lightheaded. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, kitty.” Yuuri smiled and took another drag. They followed their drag with a sip of their drink. “So, you and your friend are here for an event?” Yuuri nodded. “What kind of event is it?”

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asked after taking another sip.

“Is it like a football event?”

“No, figure skating,” Yuuri said. Gabriel nodded. “Kiki and I are here to skate.” Gabriel nodded and took a drag.

“And? How’s that going?”

"For her or me?"

“For you, kitty,” Gabriel said. “I am not concerned with Kiki.”

“This event has been terrible,” Yuuri said. "I want nothing more than to go home and forget that this event happened. I don't think I'll be able to look anyone in the eye if this event continues to be terrible. Not like I could _ever_ look anyone in the eye, but, you know.”

“Why can’t you look people in the eye after this event?”

“Shame. So much shame,” Yuuri said. “Also, autism, but there you go.” Gabriel nodded. Yuuri took a sip of their drink and took a drag. They ghosted into the wind and sighed.

“You look so hot.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. “The same can be said for you.” Gabriel smirked. Yuuri finished up their drink, put the lime wedge in their mouth, and dumped the ice out. Yuuri’s phone buzzed. They placed the glasses on the windowsill and took their phone out of their pocket.

> Khoudia: Where did you go? And where is my glass?

Yuuri put their cigarette in their mouth and made a face.

> : I stepped out and took our glasses with us.
> 
> Khoudia: You’re not supposed to take bar glasses outside but thank you for watching my glass.
> 
> : Not a problem.

“Kiki came back,” Yuuri told Gabriel. He nodded. Yuuri took a drag and looked over at Gabriel; he seemed to be contemplating something. “Do you know when your girlfriend is coming back?”

“No. I am not concerned with when my girlfriend is coming back.”

“That’s strange,” Yuuri remarked. “Why don’t you care about when your girlfriend is coming back?”

"I'm in love, but I'm losing interest," Gabriel simply said. "I had fallen in love with Clara's voice, but now I hate it. I had loved her eyes, but now I want to gouge them out. When she touches me, I recoil in disgust. Clara disinterests and repulses me now, and I don't care about her anymore."

“Then why don’t you just break up with her?” Yuuri questioned. They put their phone away and grabbed the glasses off of the windowsill. “There’s no point in being with someone who you don’t feel strongly for.”

“Oh, I feel strongly for her. Strong disdain.”

“A shame,” Yuuri said. “But, I suppose I cannot judge you _too_ harshly.”

“Oh?” Gabriel said. “Trouble with your baby?”

“Not necessarily trouble. It’s just that…” Yuuri took a drag and looked down at their cigarette. "I don't know. I love him more than words could explain, but I can't be with him anymore. I just can't. I feel so hollow and guilty when I'm with him now." 

“Then why don’t you just break up with him?” Gabriel asked, tongue in cheek.

“Oh, I’m going to,” Yuuri said. “I don’t know when, but I can’t be with him anymore.”

“If you are going to break up with him, why don’t you kiss me?” Gabriel asked. He dropped his cigarette and put it out. Yuuri internally tsk-tsked them; that was a waste of a cigarette. He had barely burned through it. Gabriel moved closer to Yuuri and placed his hands on both sides of their head. Yuuri pressed themselves against the wall, awkwardly holding their glasses and cigarette. Yuuri put the glasses between them and Gabriel.

“I’ll only feel guilty if I kiss you and don’t break up with him immediately.”

“Then kiss me and break up with him. Then come and see me before you go back to America.”

“I don’t feel like being complicit in you cheating on your partner.”

"Then kiss me. Kiss me, give me your number, and I will leave you alone for the rest of the night."

“ _Desesperado,_ ” Yuuri said. They looked down at the squished, nearly whole cigarette on the ground. 

“What?” Gabriel said. He looked confused.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri replied. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

“Do you want me to?” Gabriel asked. “If you don’t want me to, I will leave you alone.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed again. Then two more times. Yuuri reached for the windowsill and placed the glasses on there again. Yuuri reached out to touch Gabriel’s face and leaned in. Gabriel leaned in and touched foreheads. He puckered their lips for Yuuri, but Yuuri pulled away.

“I’m sorry. I just – I can’t do this.”

“It is fine,” Gabriel said.

“I can’t do this to Victor. I’m so sorry,” Yuuri said. Gabriel removed his hands from the sides of Yuuri’s head and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you still want my number?” Gabriel asked. Yuuri took out their phone and gave it to Gabriel. Gabriel put his number in Yuuri’s phone and gave it back to Yuuri. “We should return to Kiki,” Gabriel said. Gabriel gave the glasses back to Yuuri, and Yuuri rushed away from Gabriel. They were enveloped in the warmth of the bar. Gabriel wasn't far behind Yuuri. Yuuri reached Khoudia and placed the glasses in front of her. They quickly got back on their stool and rubbed their cold hands together. 

“Where were you? And why do you have a cigarette?” Khoudia asked. She was nursing an Alexander. “I got one for you. Léa is making it right now.”

“Léa?” Khoudia tilted her chin in the direction of the bartender. Yuuri nodded.

“So, where were you? Where’d you get the cigarette?”

“I told you I stepped out,” Yuuri said. They looked over to where Gabriel was sitting. He was faced towards Yuuri, but he was on his phone. "And someone gave me a cigarette when I was out." Khoudia rolled her eyes but took another sip of her Alexander. "So, how did talking to Léa go?"

“I’ll tell you when we leave,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded. Léa came over to Yuuri and Khoudia, and Léa placed Yuuri’s Alexander in front of them.

“Here you go, Yuuri,” Léa said. Yuuri was shocked that Léa knew their name. Léa went back to reading Baudelaire.

“You look strange,” Khoudia remarked. “Did something happen outside?”

“It was just frigid out. I didn’t think to bring my coat before I left.” Yuuri took a drag of their cigarette. Khoudia reached for the ashtray to her right and brought it before Yuuri. “Thank you.” Yuuri dropped the ash off their smoke and took another drag.

“I had forgotten that you smoked.”

“I smoke a lot of things,” Yuuri said. They took a sip of their Alexander. “I think you should be more surprised if I _didn’t_ smoke cigarettes.” Khoudia shrugged. “Do you want to smoke?”

“No, thanks,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded and took another drag. “You’re going to get lung cancer.” Yuuri shrugged and took a sip of their drink. Khoudia checked her phone. “We should get going soon. It’s getting late. My parents might be getting worried.”

“Did they call?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia looked through her recent calls. She shook her head. “Then they might not be too worried. You _are_ with me, after all.”

“I know, but usually my mom or dad calls me.”

“Are you getting worried?” Yuuri asked.

“Just a little bit,” she mumbled.

“Then we can leave after we finish our drinks. Would that make you feel better?” Khoudia nodded. “Then we’ll leave when we’re done.”

So Yuuri and Khoudia finished up their drinks, and Khoudia picked up the tab. Yuuri plucked Khoudia off of her stool and placed her gently on the floor. Gabriel was looking over at Yuuri interacting with Khoudia.

> Gabriel: The way you touch her is so gentle.
> 
> Gabriel: I wish you’d feel me like that.

Yuuri looked over at Gabriel as they straightened out Khoudia’s clothes. “What are you looking at?” Khoudia looked in the direction Yuuri was looking. “I don’t see anything.”

“I just spaced out. Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri said. Gabriel winked at Yuuri;. Yuuri took a deep breath. Yuuri and Khoudia fixed each other’s clothes. “Are you ready?” Khoudia nodded.

And they were off.

#


	56. Enigma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri bombed lmfao

#

**(Saturday, 12 December 2015 –** **1:39am, Marseille, France)**

Yuuri was up doing _changements_ trying to see if the hypertrophic scar on the ceiling was real. They had texted Gabriel, talked to Olivia, started feeling feverish, and decided that doing _changements_ was the perfect response to a potential and drawn-out hallucination. Their conversation with Olivia was bugging the hell out of them. They had told her – because who else would they tell? – how they almost kissed Gabriel and how they felt bad for their hoeish tendencies. Olivia laughed at them and said, “let it go.”

But Yuuri couldn’t let it go.

They were the Monarch of Not Letting Shit Go™. That’s why they were still putting up with Olivia despite swearing themselves off of her. They sighed. Khoudia was probably asleep and would have many questions if they called her to come to them at 1am. Victor would be more readily accepting of Yuuri coming up at 1am, but it was still suspect. So Yuuri’s only remaining option was to go out to do something – anything – to get themselves out of their head until they go to sleep. Their phone buzzed.

> Gabriel: Just texting you to let you know that I’m thinking of your pretty eyes tonight.
> 
> : Thank you
> 
> Gabriel: Oh, you’re awake now? Don’t you have an event?
> 
> : I do. I just can’t sleep.
> 
> Gabriel: Do you want me to call you to keep you company?
> 
> : No, thank you. I think I’m just going to go for a walk. Shouldn’t you be going to bed? Don’t you have work today?
> 
> Gabriel: I do, but I would much rather talk to you.

Yuuri got up and went over to the chair. They felt like walking. They didn’t know where they would be walking or if they would be getting back to the hotel. They just knew that they wanted to be outside in the cold air – and Yuuri hates the cold. One day, Yuuri would like to go to a Caribbean country. Just for the warmth. And the beauty of the landscape and the local flora. Yuuri could go to a Caribbean nation with their camera and sketchbooks and take pictures and draw the flowers and the view. They wouldn’t have to worry about much of anything.

When Yuuri stopped thinking about island hopping, they were already dressed and putting on their Docs. They looked down at themselves, bewildered that they even managed to get dressed right now. They grabbed their phone, their coat, and left their room.

They walked to the park that they and Khoudia would cut through for breakfast. It was currently closed, but Yuuri hopped the short fence and continued walking. They picked a seemingly nice spot in the park and laid down. The grass was wet and cold, and there was a smell in the air. Yuuri questioned whether that scent was there. They closed their eyes and tried to find a warm spot on the grass. They wanted to come outside to clear their head and sort themselves out. Now that they were out here, they didn’t know where to start. But they had to start somewhere.

They didn’t want to live in a constant state of guilt and shame.

They didn’t want to skate anymore.

They didn’t want to be with themselves.

They rubbed their cold face and sighed. They would have a few hours until they would be back on the ice. They could afford to be out of their room for a few hours.

Not necessarily days because they would have to go back eventually. They don’t want to make Khoudia and her family worry about them. Yuuri sighed again. They didn’t know when, but they would go back to the hotel – possibly before breakfast – and prepare for the day. They would bathe and try to wash away last night’s shame and figure out a way to make themselves good enough for Victor. After everything they’ve been doing, they couldn’t see a way to make this better for themselves or merciful for Victor except for breaking things off with him. They realized that they wouldn’t be able to use the words “break up” because that would be too hard for them both to handle, but they also knew that they couldn’t be so selfish. Maybe, if Yuuri were lucky, while they were separated, Victor would meet someone nice who could give him what he wants and needs, and he would break things off first. That would be preferable. And, if that doesn’t happen, Yuuri supposed that they would have to bite the bullet and be upfront. But Yuuri hoped that Victor would meet someone right for him during their separation. He deserves it; he deserves everything good in this world.

Yuuri started to pick at their face as they looked up at the sky. It looked so beautiful. They pulled out their phone and took a picture. Yuuri would text it to Khoudia right now if it weren’t going to raise a question of why Yuuri was outside at this time. There was also the question of whether Khoudia was awake at this time. Yuuri hoped that Khoudia wouldn’t be awake and in the mood to come down and talk. They wanted to be alone with their thoughts – but not alone with themselves. And they got exactly that.

At about 2:45 or so, Yuuri wanted a drink. So they left the park and decided to head out to a local bar. They went to the one by the café. They had wanted to go inside earlier, but it was closed. It seemed to be open now. So Yuuri opened the door and went inside and took a seat at the bar. There wasn’t a bartender currently there right now. They must be in the bathroom or something.

> Olivia: Thinking about you.
> 
> : Oh, that's nice because I was thinking about you, too.
> 
> Olivia: Shouldn’t you be asleep?
> 
> : Should be. But I aim to disappoint.
> 
> Olivia: So, what were you thinking about?

The bartender came back, wiping their hands on their waist apron. They smiled at Yuuri. “What would you like, _ma cherie_?” The bartender asked.

“Um, what do you know how to make?” Yuuri was a wreck when it comes to ordering cocktails. They didn’t know much about them except that there was alcohol in it and that they drink them.

“How about a Black Russian?” Yuuri shook their head. “A Kamikaze? I can make a mean Kamikaze.” Yuuri shook their head again. “A Moscow Mule? A Long Island Iced Tea?” Yuuri shook their head again. “How about–?”

“Can I just have a beer?”

“What kind do you want?” The bartender leaned on the bar and moved closer to Yuuri’s face.

“Well, what do you have?”

“We have Kronenbourg 1664.” Yuuri shook their head. They didn’t want to think about Gabriel. “We have _3 Monts_.” Yuuri hesitated but ultimately shook their head.

“What kind of beer do you like?” Yuuri asked.

“I don’t really like beer, but if I had to choose, I would have either a _Bière du Démon_ or a _Pietra_.” Yuuri made a face. “ _Bière du Démon_ is the strongest blonde beer in the world. _Pietra_ is a nutty beer.” Yuuri made a face when they heard that. “I think I understand that face. So _Bière du Démon_?” Yuuri nodded. “ _Bière du Démon_ it is,” the bartender said. The bartender left and came back with a bottle of _le Démon_. He put it in front of Yuuri. “Drink up!” Yuuri weakly smiled and took the top off the bottle. They took a sip. “So?” Yuuri nodded. “Great!” The bartender pulled up a seat. “So, what brings you to _Bar De La Paix_ at this empty hour?”

“I just wanted to take a walk in the park. And then I wanted a drink. So here I am.”

“The nearby park?” Yuuri nodded. “You know that’s closed, right?” Yuuri nodded. “You’re rebellious. I like that.” Yuuri sheepishly chuckled and took a sip of their beer. “What’s your name?”

“Yuuri. Yours?”

“Paul.” Paul held out his hand for Yuuri. Yuuri took it; Paul shook. Paul’s hair was in a bun and dyed lime green to match his olivine eyes. “So, Yuuri, what made you want to walk in the park this lovely morning? Fight with your girlfriend?” Paul smiled. Yuuri took a sip.

“Well, not necessarily a problem – because this problem has a solution – but… I don’t know.” Yuuri took a sip. They could learn to like this beer.

“Let’s explore that,” Paul said. “What happened during this fight? What was the catalyst?”

“We didn’t fight,” Yuuri said. “But, like, I have to break up with them.”

“That seems pretty drastic, don’t you think?” Paul questioned. “Hold on,” he said. He got up and went into the back. Yuuri decided to text Olivia.

: Let’s go out for dinner on Sunday.

Yuuri put their phone on DND. Paul came back with a Coke and a straw. “Continue.”

“So I have to break up with them. They’re literal perfection and everything I could have ever wanted, but I can’t live with possibly fucking up some more and hurting them.” Paul nodded. Yuuri took a sip.

“Sounds like you’re in love,” Paul said, taking a large sip of Coke. “What could you possibly do that would hurt your baby?”

“I’m so afraid that I’m going to complete the act and cheat on them.” Paul nodded. “I’ve almost done it twice, and I don’t want to slip up and do it.”

“So you think it would be better to end it now rather than cheat while you’re with her?” Yuuri nodded and took a sip. “I would like to posit this: What do you think would hurt her more? Cheating or breaking up with her when she thinks everything is going well?”

“Well, I have two plans of action.” Paul nodded. “The first plan of action is just to tell them that this is why I can’t be with them anymore.” Paul nodded and took a sip. “My second plan of action is to ask to go on a break. While we’re on ‘break,’ they meet a nice person who’s capable of being honest and open with them – giving them what they deserve – and they ask to end it. I will grant that, and they’ll be free.”

“So, you unnecessarily keep her tied down for a bit longer instead of just being upfront?”

“It’s not my intent to tie them down. I was hoping that they find someone sooner rather than later, and this can be over and done with.” Yuuri took a sip. “I don’t want to keep them tied down.” Paul smirked.

“And let’s say that you did go with your second plan,” Paul said. “What if they didn’t meet anybody? What if they purposely kept themselves unavailable because they believe that you’re going to get back together?” Yuuri shrugged. “Your plans need more nuance.” Paul scratched their beard and looked at their nails. “I’m a fan of option one if you can’t tell.” Yuuri took a big sip and nodded. “Let’s explore this: Why have you almost cheated on your partner?”

“The first time it was because I was really sad. The second time I just… I don’t know. I don’t have an excuse.” Yuuri took a sip of beer and looked at the bottle. “I just know that it’s for the best. For my baby and me. They deserve the best of everything as the best of everything, and I simply cannot do my best by them.”

“You seem like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anything,” Paul said. Yuuri shrugged and took a large sip of beer. “Do you want to do this to your partner? Do you really want to break up with them?”

“Never. I love him.” Yuuri blushed. Paul smiled.

“And you weren’t going to correct me?” Paul questioned. They smiled.

“I’m just used to people thinking I’m straight by now. I don’t overthink it.” Yuuri took another large sip.

“But that’s your boyfriend. You should be proud to be with him. Correct me when I come out of pocket.” Yuuri shrugged and looked at their fingers. “So you love your boyfriend. You don’t want to break up with him, but you think it’s what’s best for him?” Yuuri nodded. “How do you know that it’s what’s best?”

“It’s what he deserves.”

“And how do you know what he deserves?” Paul took a sip of soda.

“I know he deserves goodness and commitment, and I know that I can’t give him either of those things.” Yuuri took another sip of beer.

“What if you tell him about your shoddy commitment issues, and he decides to stay?”

“Then he’s kind of dumb, and I don’t know what the fuck he’s even doing with his life.” Paul laughed. “Life is too short to be with someone who isn’t capable of satisfying you properly.”

“Does your boyfriend satisfy you?” Yuuri blinked and took a sip.

“In… in what way?” Paul shrugged.

“You said ‘satisfy.’ Not me.”

“If we’re talking emotionally, I wouldn’t know. He’s trying to get me to be open with him, but I don’t talk to him about that. I talk to my doctor.” Paul nodded and took a sip. “Physically, I’m satisfied. I think.”

“You think?” Paul questioned, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled. “You _have_ to know that.”

“I mean, _I_ like it. It’s something I’d like to keep doing with him.” Paul started laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re inexperienced. It’s kind of cute.” Paul took another sip. He was halfway done with his can.

“When I was saying ‘satisfy,’ I was trying to convey satisfaction regarding emotional intimacy. I’m kind of useless when it comes to that.” Paul chuckled.

“Then get better. You can learn in relationships.” Paul smiled. “You need to communicate with your baby more. Or your communication skills need to get better.”

“See, that’s the thing: My communication skills are actual _poubelle_.” Paul giggled.

“Then get better.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and took a sip. “Tell me, how good is the foundation between you two?”

“Pardon?”

“Your foundation. What was your relationship established on?” Yuuri made a face and shrugged. Paul deadpanned. “Jesus Christ, you don’t know what your relationship was established on?”

“He said he wanted a relationship with me on our second date, and I agreed.”

“Why?” Paul whined.

“I already had strong feelings for him. I wanted a relationship down the line; I just didn’t expect it so soon.” Yuuri took a sip. They were halfway done, and it hadn’t hit them yet.

“I am so confused right now,” Paul said. “Take it back to the beginning. How did these feelings emerge? How did you know him?”

“He’s prolific.” Paul made a face. “Not even Instagram prolific but for real prolific.” Paul nodded. “We met because he decided to come home – to the area I’m currently living in – to take classes. I complimented his hair. He didn’t speak to me at first, but he kind of cornered me in the library because he wanted to talk to me.” Paul nodded again and took a sip of soda. His can started to sound empty. “In our next class together, he kind of asked me out and asked for my number.” Paul nodded again.

“Kind of asked you out? How did that happen?”

“We have museum assignments, and he wanted me to come to the museum with him.” Paul nodded. “He asked me for my number so we can coordinate a time and place to meet so we can go to the museum.” Yuuri smiled goofily. “He held my hand!! That was the first time he held my hand!” Yuuri gushed. “And he touched me! He touched me and–and–”

“And what?” Paul was smiling.

“It was great!! I loved it!!”

“Did he touch you some more after that?” Yuuri nodded.

“We held hands, and he walked me home!” Yuuri giggled.

“Do you usually get like this when you talk about the good memories of your boyfriend?” Yuuri slowly nodded and took a sip of their beverage. They smiled. “So, the foundation is that… I don’t know why you’re together.”

“I think we’re together because we like each other a lot and we’re both kind of sensitive. Our sensitivity complements each other’s.” Yuuri took a sip of beer. Paul nodded. “Maybe he was kind of lonely, and he decided to date someone as a partial joke, and it got carried away.” Paul rolled his eyes. “Is that a reach?”

“I don’t know your boyfriend,” Paul said. He smiled. “You are more familiar with him than me. You are the best judge regarding this.” Paul took another sip and tapped his can. “So, you met him in class?” Yuuri nodded. “What class was it?”

“It’s an art history class.” Paul nodded.

“What do you study? What’s your major?”

“I’m getting a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts in, well, you know, art and dance.”

“Ooh, that’s fascinating and unique,” Paul said. He smirked. “Do you know what I’m studying in college?” Yuuri shook their head. “Psychology.” Yuuri smiled. “I’m going to be a drug rehabilitation counselor one day, but, until then, I’m a bartender.” Paul smiled. “Let me introduce myself again.” Paul held out his hand. “Paul Beaumont, future drug rehabilitation counselor.” He smiled. Yuuri grabbed his hand and shook it again. “You introduce yourself again.”

“Yuuri Katsuki, depressed visual artist, and professional figure skater.” They smiled harder and took a sip. “It is very nice to make your acquaintance, Paul Beaumont.”

“And it’s very nice to make yours, Yuuri Katsuki.” Paul laughed. “So, where do you usually live?”

“I’m currently staying in Detroit for school, but my family’s back in Japan.” Paul nodded.

“Where in Japan? Any place I might know?”

“How familiar are you with the Saga Prefecture?” Paul made a face. “That’s what I thought.” Yuuri laughed. “I come from a small town in Saga.” Paul nodded. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Aix-en-Provence.” Yuuri nodded. “It’s a ninety-minute train ride from here.” Paul tapped their can on the counter. “I stay in the area. Where are you staying?”

“The, um,” Yuuri started snapping. “The Hôtel Kyriad Marseille Palais.” Paul nodded. He took out his phone and started to tap and scroll. Yuuri looked at him do something.

“How do you spell ‘Katsuki’?” Paul asked. Yuuri spelled it out for him. “Thank you very much.” Yuuri nodded.

“Why did you a–” Paul brought his finger to Yuuri’s lips to hush them. Yuuri looked down at Paul’s finger and blinked.

“Shh,” Paul cajoled. “You’ll see soon enough, okay?” Yuuri nodded. Paul removed his finger from Yuuri’s lips and tapped his soda can against the countertop. They looked at Yuuri’s bottle. “Can I get you another beer?” Yuuri nodded. Paul got out of his seat and took his can with him. Yuuri quickly took out their phone. They had several texts from Olivia.

> Olivia: You want to go out???
> 
> Olivia: With me???
> 
> Olivia: Why
> 
> Olivia: I would have never thought!!
> 
> Olivia: Where do you want to go? What time do you want to meet? What do you want to do after?
> 
> : Um, I’m feeling Italian. Maybe at 5pm? After we can go to the park or whatever.

Paul came back with a new beer and a can of seltzer water. He had rinsed out the straw. Yuuri opened their beer; Paul opened his can of seltzer water. They “clinked” bottles and cans and drank. “So, what’s it like being an artist? Is it fun?”

“I like it enough to be one,” Yuuri said. Paul smiled. “What’s psychology like? I’ve only taken a handful of psych classes.”

“It’s a lot of material, a lot of terms to remember.” Yuuri nodded. “I love it, though. I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t have a love for it.” Yuuri nodded again and smiled. “Is it the same thing with art?”

“Basically. It’s frustrating, but I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t love it.”

“My sentiments exactly!” Yuuri smiled and took a sip of their new beer.

“So, is this place usually so empty at this time?” Paul nodded. “What do you do when it gets so empty?”

“I study or strike up a conversation with a patron. It’s good practice for me.” Yuuri nodded. “I get the exposure that I need to work with clients, and these alcoholics get therapy that they wouldn’t be able to afford in America.” Paul shrugged and took a sip. “It works out for everyone involved.”

“It works because you have a charismatic personality,” Yuuri said before they took a big sip. “Your smile is very warm and inviting. You also look very non-threatening despite your stature and muscles.” Paul smiled. “What I’m trying to say is that you look like a very inviting person and your smile makes people want to talk to you.”

“Really?” Paul asked. He grinned. “Usually, I get told that I look very intimidating.”

“Then you were lied to,” Yuuri said. “You are the furthest thing from intimidating. You are a bear.” Paul laughed.

“I’m a bear?”

“You are a bear.”

“Why am I a bear?” Paul asked, smirking.

“You are large and hairy and possibly chubby.” Paul nodded.

“Well, do you want to touch my belly?” Paul asked; he stood up without prompting from Yuuri. “Touch my belly and tell me that I’m a bear.” He lifted the bottom of his turtleneck for Yuuri. He had pudge around the belly. Yuuri patted and groped his stomach. “Am I a bear now?”

“Yes, you have become even more of a bear.” Paul giggled and pulled down his shirt. Yuuri sat back down and took a sip of beer. “Bears are usually chubby.”

“Let me tell you,” Paul said, “my boyfriend loves my chub. He says I keep him warm in the winter.” Paul giggled. “It gets kind of weird and sticky during the summer, though. I’m a big cuddle monster, and my boyfriend hates cuddling during the summer since I get sweaty.” Yuuri giggled. “Let me show you a picture of my Yannis!” Paul took out his phone and unlocked it. “Yannis is all small and petite. He’s beautiful, though.” Paul turned his phone around to Yuuri. “Look!” Yannis was a slender black guy with a small, neon pink afro. He was grinning next to his bear in his crop top and shorts. “This was from July! We went to Pride together, and someone thought that we looked so beautiful together, and they wanted to take pictures of us for us.” Paul grinned.

“Your hair is green, and Yannis’ is pink,” Yuuri pointed out. Paul nodded. “Cosmo and Wanda.”

“Pardon?”

“Cosmo and Wanda. You know, from The Fairly Odd Parents.” Yuuri took out their phone and searched for pictures of Cosmo and Wanda. “See?” Yuuri turned their phone towards Paul. He grinned.

“Aah! I have to tell Yannis this!”

“Is Yannis awake right now?”

“Probably not. I tell him not to wait up for me. My baby needs his beauty sleep.” Yuuri smiled. Paul unlocked his phone and started to text his boyfriend. He was grinning madly.

“So why did you assume I was straight?”

“Everyone that comes in here is straight. Can I really be faulted?” Paul took a sip of his seltzer water. “Plus, you’re Japanese. Aren’t they, like, super queerphobic?” Yuuri shrugged. “What? How do you not know?!”

“I never started dating male-identifying people until I came to America.” Paul nodded. “So, I wouldn’t know the extent of queerphobia in Japan because I’ve never experienced it.” Paul nodded again. His phone buzzed. “Yannis?” Paul smiled and nodded. “What did he say?”

“‘* _murmure_ * _Holy shit nous sommes Cosmo et Wanda_.’” Paul giggled. “What does your boyfriend look like?” He smiled. Yuuri took two big swigs of beer and went to their photos. They went back to the park photos and showed them to Paul.

“This was before we started dating.”

“You two look so pretty together,” Paul said. They scrolled to another photo. “Oh, look at his eyes!” Yuuri nodded excitedly. “They’re so pretty!”

“My boyfriend is beautiful,” Yuuri said, slightly bragging and slurring their words.

“My boyfriend is beautiful, too,” Paul retorted. He checked the time on his phone. “Oh, it’s getting late. Shouldn’t you be getting back to the hotel?” Yuuri shrugged and took a big swig. “Aren’t you with anyone?” Yuuri shrugged again. “Yuuri,” Paul said. “Get back to the hotel.”

“One more beer,” Yuuri whined. 

“Fine, one more beer, and you get back to the hotel,” Paul said. “It’s getting late.”

“I know,” Yuuri said. “What time is it exactly?”

“03:35,” Paul said. “We close at 4hrs, so hurry up. Take big swills.” Yuuri took two big swills of beer. They were halfway done already. “What are you going to do after you leave?”

“I might find another bar,” Yuuri said.

“You can’t,” Paul said. “The bars usually close at 4hrs. You have to go back to the hotel, baby.” Yuuri shrugged. “You’re going to have to start chugging.”

“I am a pro at chugging,” Yuuri said. “Hold the bottle.” Paul took the bottle from Yuuri. They got out of the stool and sat on the floor. “Now, come here.” Paul looked at Yuuri. He sighed and got out of his chair. He left from behind the counter and stood next to Yuuri. “Now, put the bottle in my mouth.” Paul put the lip of the bottle against Yuuri’s mouth. “Now tilt it up. I’ll signal you.” Paul nodded. Yuuri tilted their head back and brought the neck of the bottle with them. They gave Paul the signal. Paul lifted the bottle, and Yuuri started chugging. Before Yuuri – and Paul – knew it, Yuuri was done with the bottle. “Another.”

“Yuuri, I –”

“Another,” Yuuri said.

“Are you trying to get drunk?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wanted to be sober,” Yuuri said. Paul was deadpan. He sighed and went to the back for another bottle. When he came back, Yuuri was holding their head in their hands.

“Are you okay?” Paul asked. Yuuri nodded. They put their head up, uncapped the beer, and brought it to their lips. Yuuri started chugging. When Yuuri was done, Paul set the bottle aside. “Another?” Yuuri nodded. They wiped their mouth. “This is the last one.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”

“You had three large bottles of beer, Yuuri.”

“One more and I’ll pay and go,” Yuuri slurred. “I promise.” They held out their pinky for Paul to link. Paul sighed and went back to the back for one last Bière du Démon.

“Last one and then you go back to the hotel,” Paul said. Yuuri nodded. They brought the bottle to their lips and chugged that, too. Paul helped Yuuri get up and placed his arm around their back. “Do you need me to get you an Uber?” Yuuri shook their head. “Are you sure?” Paul asked. Yuuri nodded. Yuuri forced themselves to stand up straight. They zipped their coat and wiped their face with their hands. “Are you okay enough to walk back to the hotel?”

“I’m fine. I’m sure,” Yuuri groaned. They took steps and swayed. Yuuri patted their pockets for their phone. “Wh–”

“Your phone is in your pocket,” Paul assured them. Yuuri snapped their fingers and remembered to pay for their beers. Yuuri did that, and Paul escorted them to the front door. “Get back to the hotel safe, okay? I don’t want to hear about you on the news.” Yuuri nodded. “Oh, and one more thing,” Paul said. Yuuri nodded. Paul told them the thing, and it went over Yuuri’s head. They heard Paul talking, but it sounded like nothing. Yuuri nodded. “I’ll remind you of this once I get home, okay?” Yuuri nodded.

“Wait, wh–” Yuuri stopped talking to get a breath of air.

“Don’t worry about it,” Paul said. He opened the door for Yuuri and patted their back. “I’ll message you later, okay?”

“Bu–”

“Don’t worry about it!” Paul said. He patted Yuuri’s head. “Just get back to the hotel okay, okay?” Yuuri nodded.

“Thanks, Paul,” Yuuri slurred. “You’re great.”

“And so are you.” Yuuri finger gunned Paul and started staggering back to the hotel. When Yuuri hopped the first fence to the park, they staggered and decided to take a seat on a bench. They took out their phone and slowly dialed Victor’s number. Yuuri didn’t remember when or by what means they remembered his number, but they did, and they were dialing it. Victor picked up.

“Yuuri?”

“Victor?” Yuuri slurred.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Not n-necessarily,” Yuuri said. “I know it’s late-slash-early, but can you do me a favor and come to the park?”

“The park? Why are you in the park?” Yuuri’s phone buzzed twice. “Yuuri?”

“I’ll explain later. But just – just come to the park and wait for me.”

“But why are you at the park? Where do I wait? Isn’t it closed right now?” Yuuri closed their mouth and took a deep breath. “Yuuri?”

“Yeah?”

“Where do I wait for you?”

“You know where the big gates are?”

“Yes,” Victor said.

“Wait to the left of those gates. I’ll be hopping the fence over there.” Yuuri brought their knees to their chest.

“You hopped a fence?!”

“Yes. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Not hop a fence!” Yuuri shrugged and wiped their face. They felt like there was a curtain being cast over their eyes. “I’m getting dressed right now. Hold on.” Yuuri nodded. “I can’t believe this,” Victor mumbled.

“Did I disrupt your sleep?” Yuuri asked. “I’m sorry. I should’ve just taken an Uber back to the hotel.”

“Why were you even out at this time?” Victor chastised. Yuuri rolled their eyes. “It’s late. You told me that you were going to bed.”

“And I did.”

“I didn’t know your bed was outside.” Yuuri rolled their eyes again and sprawled themselves out on the bench. “How long do you think it’ll take you to get to the gate?”

“I don’t know. Depends on if my brain forgets how to walk.”

“What?!”

“Calm down. I’ll be fine.” Yuuri rolled off the bench and scrambled up. They forced themselves to stand up straight and started walking again. The cold air was hitting them in the right places, and it almost sobered Yuuri up. Almost. Yuuri tried to walk straight. They were really trying to. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m walking right now, but why are you even outside?” Yuuri looked up at the sky. It was still dark out. “I know you said that you hopped the fence to get to the park, but why are you even in the park at this hour?”

“I just needed to think,” Yuuri slurred.

“Couldn’t you think in bed?”

“No,” Yuuri said. “I needed to get out and think.”

“So you hop a fence to a park and… do what exactly?”

“Lay down and think about everything,” Yuuri said. Victor was silent, but Yuuri could hear Victor breathing on the other end. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Victor said. “I’m rushing to get to you, and you haven’t even told me why you’re outside at this hour, what made you leave the hotel, and why you sound weird right now.”

“I sound weird?” Yuuri questioned. They stopped walking. “Look, I’ll explain everything when I get to you, and I’ll make all of this go away, okay?” Yuuri resumed walking. “I’ll make all of this go away, and we’re going to be okay. Okay?”

“What are you talking about?” Victor questioned. Yuuri blinked. “What do you mean by ‘we’re going to be okay’? Aren’t we already okay?” Yuuri remained silent. “Yura.”

“Yes?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, but I’m almost at the gate.” There was a period of silence between Yuuri and Victor.

“I’m at the corner,” Victor said. He yawned. “I still can’t believe that you had me get out of bed to come to get you.”

“Do you _want_ to come to get me?” Yuuri questioned. “Because, if not, I can have you turn back around and go back to the hotel. I can walk myself back.”

“No, I’m already out here, and I’m almost at the park.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “I’m coming to get you.” Yuuri rolled their eyes again and staggered. They steadied themselves and continued walking.

“No, if you’re upset, then go back to the hotel. I’ll walk myself back.”

“And I told you that I’m already out here, so I’m coming to get you. Don’t argue with me on this.”

“I’m not trying to argue,” Yuuri said. “But you sounded annoyed, and I’m sorry. I’ll walk myself back.”

“Yura! I’m already out here, and I’m coming to get you! Christ!” Victor yelled. Yuuri sucked their teeth. Victor sighed. “I’m at the gate. Where are you?”

“I’m coming right now,” Yuuri said. They were approaching the gate and was able to make out a dark figure. Yuuri approached the figure and patted the back of its head.

“Yuuri?” Victor looked behind him and hung up their phone. They quickly shoved it into their pocket and turned around.

“Let me hold on to your shoulders,” Yuuri said. They placed their hands as firmly as they could on Victor’s shoulders and brought their legs over the fence. Yuuri staggered into Victor’s chest and held on tight. Victor’s coat was made of wool, and it was cold. They couldn’t snuggle up to this at all. Victor helped Yuuri stand up straight and looked at them. His long, cold fingers grazed Yuuri’s jawline. He sighed.

“Let’s get back to the hotel,” Victor said. Yuuri put their phone in their pocket. Victor slung his arm around Yuuri’s back to support them.

When they got back to the hotel, it was nearing 4:45am. Victor had taken Yuuri back to his room. Yuuri immediately faceplanted on the bed.

“Can you at least get out of your coat first?” Victor chastised. He flipped Yuuri over to unzip their coat. Victor grabbed the zipper, and Yuuri moved his hand away. “What?”

“I can do that,” Yuuri said. They unzipped their coat and slid out of it. Victor grabbed Yuuri’s coat and placed it on a chair, then kneeling to untie Yuuri’s shoes. Victor pulled off Yuuri's shoes and set them to the side.

“Do you want me to take off the rest of your clothes?” Yuuri did something akin to nodding. “Okay, arms up.” Yuuri lifted their arms over their head, and Victor pulled off Yuuri’s hoodie and tank top in one swift motion. Victor helped Yuuri out of their pants and placed those with their hoodie and coat. “Now you can go to sleep,” Victor said.

“Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri said. They pushed back the covers on Victor’s bed and clumsily got under them. Victor undressed and got into bed. Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri and snuggled up to them.

“You’re a wreck,” Victor murmured.

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” Yuuri said. They moved closer to Victor and yawned. “I love you, too.” And, despite feeling like they’re mentally on a hypercoaster, they were able to fall into a drunken sleep.

#

**(Saturday, 12 December 2015 – 7:26am, Marseille, France)**

Victor woke Yuuri up because their phone was ringing. “Hey,” Victor said as he lightly shook them. “Your phone.” Yuuri rubbed their eyes and looked at their phone, trying to process what’s going on. “It’s ringing.” They took it from Victor and picked up.

“Yeah?”

“Yuuri! I’ve been calling you!” Khoudia yelled. Yuuri winced at the sound of her voice. “My parents want to know if you want to go to breakfast with us!”

“Is your mom feeling better?”

“Yeah, her cramps are usually the worst on the first day.” Yuuri nodded. “I’m outside your door right now, and you haven’t opened your door yet.”

“I’m not in my room,” Yuuri told her. “I’m with Victor.”

“What? Why are you with him? You said you were going to bed after you dropped me off!”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you in your dressing room.” Yuuri wiped their crusty eyes and yawned.

“So, you’re not coming to breakfast with us?”

“No, sadly,” Yuuri said.

“What do you want me to tell my parents then?” Khoudia asked.

“Tell them I’m not feeling well this morning and that I’ll see them this afternoon.” Yuuri yawned again. Victor was sitting across from Yuuri, observing the conversation.

“Are you sure you want me to tell them that? You know they’ll probably want to come to check on you, right?”

“I’m going back to bed.”

“What?”

“Tell them that I’m going back to bed, so I won’t hear the door.” Khoudia sighed. “You’re the greatest.”

“I know,” Khoudia said. “Alright. I’ll tell them that. You enjoy whatever you were doing with Victor.” Yuuri nodded. Khoudia hung up the phone, and Yuuri put their phone on the nightstand. Yuuri looked at their fingers.

“Good morning,” Victor said. Yuuri smiled. “Are you going to tell me what earlier was about?”

“What what was about?” Victor deadpanned. “You mean when I called you?” Victor vigorously nodded. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Why were you outside?”

“I needed to think.”

“About what?”

“Things.” Victor rolled their eyes. “I just needed to get out of the hotel and clear my head.” Yuuri shrugged.

“Why did you sound weird last night?”

“I went to a bar. Had a few drinks.” Victor made a face. “Don’t make that face. You look cute.” Yuuri stretched up to kiss Victor’s forehead.

“Don’t make this a habit,” Victor said. “I don’t like worrying about you.” Victor kissed Yuuri’s forehead.

“I promise you that this won’t be a habit,” Yuuri said. They kissed Victor’s nose. “I know how to take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that you can, but I just don’t like thinking about what _could_ happen to you.” Victor clambered over Yuuri’s legs and pulled the covers on their side of the bed back. He slid in and laid down. “Lay with me.” Yuuri did as Victor asked and cuddled up to him. “Yuuri?”

“Yeah?”

“Who is Paul?” Yuuri yawned.

“Paul is the bartender from last night.”

“Oh, because he messaged you asking if you got back safe.” Yuuri nodded. “And who is Gabriel?”

“Someone from last night. We were talking, and he asked for my number.” Victor made a sound. Yuuri closed their eyes. “Does that bother you?”

“A little bit,” Victor said. “What were you talking about with him that warranted the number exchange? Surely it couldn’t be so important that –”

“Joy Division,” Yuuri quickly said. Victor arched an eyebrow. “Joy Division is serious business.” Victor shrugged. “I’ll play Joy Division for you sometime.”

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about Joy Division?” Yuuri shrugged. “Are they good?”

“Super good,” Yuuri said. They yawned. “Do you want to go out for breakfast?”

“Are you up for it?” Yuuri shrugged. “How do you not know? You just asked me.”

“I figured that you’d be hungry,” Yuuri said. “Aren’t you hungry?” Victor shook his head.

“Not really. I’m just glad you’re okay,” Victor said. He kissed Yuuri’s right temple. “One more thing.” Yuuri nodded. “Olivia texted you about dinner. I thought you weren’t going to see her again.” Yuuri remained silent. “Aren’t you going to tell me why you’re going to see her again?”

“Because I want to,” Yuuri murmured.

“But why?” Victor questioned. “She made you uncomfortable after your last dinner. Why do you want to see her again?”

“She was one of my first friends in Detroit, and she came back last month. I want to try and rekindle our friendship. Can’t I try and do that?” Victor sighed.

“If you wish,” Victor murmured with an insolent eye roll. Yuuri looked at Victor and sighed and got up. They walked over to where Victor put their clothes. “Where are you going?”

“Back downstairs,” Yuuri murmured. “I don’t want to upset you any further.”

“Stay with me,” Victor said. “We can go out for breakfast. Just stay with me.” Victor got out of bed and stood beside me. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going to leave you.” Yuuri stood on their toes to kiss Victor’s forehead. “And we can go to breakfast. Just let me shower and put on regular clothes.” Victor smiled. Yuuri kissed him. “Do you think I can just go to my room in my pajamas?”

“Probably,” Victor said.

“Good.” Yuuri gathered their things. “I’ll text you when I’m ready.” Victor smiled. Yuuri stood on their toes again and pecked their happiness on the cheek. “Can you open the door for me?” Victor nodded and opened the door. “Thank you,” Yuuri said. “I’ll see you soon.” Yuuri stepped out of Victor’s room. On their way back to their room, they bumped into a small blonde adolescent. “Oh, sorry,” Yuuri mumbled. They shuffled past the blonde, but they still felt his blue zircon eyes on them. The blonde turned back to look at Yuuri shuffle to the elevator. Yuuri suddenly felt increasingly anxious and self-conscious about everything – most of all and especially their walking.

#

**(Saturday, 12 December 2015 –** **8:41am, Marseille, France)**

Yuuri’s shower was long and hot. They wanted to wash off the night’s cold sweat and shame. They didn’t wash their hair; it felt too cold to wash their hair. Yuuri was lacing up their shoes. They hadn’t texted Victor yet.

> : I’m ready.
> 
> Victor: Great! I’ll be down soon!

Yuuri finished tying their shoes and went to their coat. Yuuri sniffed their coat; it smelled fine. They put it on and checked their pockets for their wallet, keycard, and house keys. They sat next to their phone and yawned. Yuuri was mentally running on about 29%. They had hoped that breakfast would recharge them just a little bit. They didn’t know if chocolatine and hot chocolate would revitalize them, but it was worth a shot to try. Yuuri sighed and laid on their back. While she was showering, they were thinking about Victor this morning. His behavior this morning struck them as odd, and they didn’t know what to do about it or if they should do something about it at all. It might not even be a problem; it might just be a one-off thing. Or it could be a problem, and it should be something that’s nipped in the bud. Only time would tell whether this would be a problem.

While Yuuri was on their head trip, Victor was knocking on their door. “Yuuri?” Yuuri snapped out of it and got up. They grabbed their phone and opened the door. “Yuuri!” Victor hugged them tightly. “Are you ready?” Yuuri nodded. They closed the door behind them and stood next to Victor.

“Let’s go.” Victor held out their hand for Yuuri. Yuuri smiled weakly and held Victor’s hand. They walked to the elevator and pushed the down button for the elevator.

“How was your shower?” Victor asked.

“It was fine,” Yuuri murmured. “It was long.”

“It was long,” Victor said. “Your showers aren’t usually that long, are they?” Yuuri signed “more or less.” The elevator came, and they got on. Victor pushed the button for the ground floor. “Chris called when I was in the shower. He wanted to know if I wanted to go out for breakfast with him.”

“And?”

“I told him that I couldn’t because I was going out for breakfast with you.” Yuuri looked at Victor. “What? I want to go out to eat with you. Chris and Yuri will be fine eating without me.” Yuuri made a face.

“Yuri?”

“Yes, Yuri,” Victor said. “He’s my rink mate. I told you, remember?”

“You didn’t mention that his name is Yuri, too,” Yuuri said. “What does he look like? How old is he?”

“He’s fifteen. He’s blonde and has blue eyes.” Yuuri nodded. “I think I have a picture of him, hold on.” Victor took out his phone and started scrolling. Yuuri was looking at the lights at the top of the elevator door. “Here!” Victor nudged Yuuri. They were snapped out of their headspace and looked down at the photo. Victor’s Yuri looked small and waifish like the blonde Yuuri encountered in the hallway this morning. They felt strangely empty. Again. That feeling had previously come and dissipated when they were in the shower, but now it felt like it was here to stay. “My kotenok is a difficult one.” Yuuri nodded. “I love him greatly, though.” Yuuri nodded again. “Where do you want to go for breakfast?”

“Well, we probably can’t go to the usual café. Khoudia’s parents are there, and I had Khoudia tell them I wasn’t feeling well.”

“And Yuri is already mad at me for making him go to breakfast with Chris by himself,” Victor murmured. “We should go to a different café.” Yuuri took out their phone and started searching. Victor peeked over their shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for a café,” Yuuri said. After a minute of scrolling, Yuuri found a café that looks reasonable. “How about this one?” Victor looked. “It’s a sixteen-minute walk from here.” Victor nodded. “Do you want to go?”

“Do you want to go?” Victor replied. Yuuri deadpanned. “I’ll only go if you go.”

“Well, I know I’m going. Are you going?” Victor snickered and nodded. “Then we’re going.” There was a lull. “Do you want to leave without me?” Victor squinted.

“Why do you think I want to leave without you?” Victor questioned. “We’re leaving together.”

“I’m just thinking that – you know –”

“No, I don’t know. Explain your thought process to me.”

“You’re Victor Nikiforov. What business do you have with being with _me_?” Victor sighed. “I figured that you’d be embarrassed to be with me.”

“I’ve gone out with you before. Why should I be embarrassed to be with you now?” The elevator stopped on the ground floor, and they got off. Yuuri awkwardly trailed behind Victor. “Walk beside me, not behind me.” Yuuri complied with Victor’s request and sped up; he squeezed their hand. They passed by a man with this woman.

“Hey! Victor!” Victor stopped walking and looked back.

“Oh, hello, Jean,” Victor quickly said. He tried to get walking, but Jean-Jacques called out for him again. Yuuri let go of Victor’s hand and retreated within themselves. “Do you need something?” Yuuri looked at the woman with Jean-Jacques. She looked pretty Asian – and, not to mention that she was very pretty. Her red lipstick offset her pale skin and pitch-black hair.

“Just wanted to say ‘hi’ and ask why you’re holding hands with the new skater.”

“Because I can. Yuuri, let’s go,” Victor said. Victor started to walk off, and Yuuri followed behind him. Victor held out his hand for Yuuri, and Yuuri tentatively took it. They walked to the southern corner. There was a silence between them, but Yuuri had a simmering question.

“Who was that?” Yuuri asked.

“Jean-Jacques Leroy. I told you about him.”

“And who was that with him?”

“I think that was his girlfriend,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded.

“His girlfriend is so pretty. He lucked out.”

“I lucked out, too,” Victor said. He pecked Yuuri’s forehead. He smiled and squeezed Yuuri’s hand again. And so, they walked to The Provençal Café.

#

**(Saturday, 12 December 2015 – 9:05am, Marseille, France)**

The interior of The Provençal Café was white, and they had painted Strelitzias on the walls. The windows were large, and it reminded Yuuri of the café back at home. The café at home didn’t have Strelitzias on the walls, but it was the décor which made Yuuri think about it. “Pick a spot,” Victor said. “I’ll order for us. What do you want?”

“Chocolatine and hot chocolate would be nice,” Yuuri mumbled. They looked around Provençal and picked a spot near the window. In retrospect, it wouldn’t have been wise to choose a place where people would easily see them, but the sun looked so pretty in that spot – it would’ve been a crime if they didn’t sit there. So Yuuri sat there and looked at Victor as he ordered. Once he was done, he stepped to the side to wait. Yuuri took out their phone. They should get back to Olivia.

> Olivia: So, we’re going to dinner on Sunday. We’re meeting at 5pm, and we’re going to go to Andiamo Detroit Riverfront. After that, we might go for a walk. We might stay at Andiamo and have drinks. We might head back to my place and blaze.
> 
> : Mm-hm.
> 
> Olivia: Great! I'm looking forward to this!
> 
> : I am, too.
> 
> Olivia: And I promise you. No disasters will happen unless you want them to happen.
> 
> : My entire life is a disaster. So no matter what happens, there WILL be a disaster.

Yuuri looked back at Victor; he waved. Yuuri weakly smiled.

> Olivia: Your life is not a disaster.
> 
> Olivia: But I must know: How are you going to make things right with your boyfriend?
> 
> : I can’t tell you.
> 
> Olivia: Why? Don’t you trust me?
> 
> : I can’t tell you because I’m not sure if I want to go through with it.
> 
> : I love him so much, and I don’t want to do this, but it’s the only way I can be able to sleep at night now. He deserves better than someone with a genuinely queer sexual energy that can’t even be directed entirely towards him.
> 
> : This is honestly tearing me apart.
> 
> Olivia: Welp. Idk what to tell you, nor do I have any insight on what you plan to do about this.
> 
> Olivia: But, uh… Have fun hoeing after you do the thing?
> 
> : You’re not helpful.
> 
> : But then again, you never usually are.

Victor walked over with their breakfast and beverages. Yuuri put their phone down and smiled. “One chocolatine for my Yura,” Victor said as he gave Yuuri their chocolatine and hot chocolate. “And one mouillettes for me.” Victor uncapped his coffee. He smiled. “I’m glad you asked me to breakfast even though you said you don’t eat it.” Yuuri weakly smiled. “So tell me about that.”

“About what?”

“The not eating breakfast thing,” Victor said. He gently cracked his egg with the back of the spoon. “Why not?”

“Heartburn in the morning,” Yuuri simply said. “ _Especially_ eating like that.”

“ _You_ get heartburn?” Yuuri nodded and looked down at their chocolatine. “If that’s the case, you should be getting heartburn every meal.”

“It’s worse in the morning,” Yuuri said. They took a sip of their hot chocolate and looked at Victor’s nails.

“You look not okay,” Victor abruptly said. He covered his mouth. Yuuri looked at Victor’s nose. “I think you should go to the doctor… Like, really should.” Victor looked down at his knuckles and how they pressed into Yuuri’s skin. “Please go. For me.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said. Victor released his pressure on Yuuri’s hand and stroked the back of it.

“So, you’re going.” Yuuri nodded. “Glad we can get this situated. Good talk.” Yuuri chuckled and looked at Victor’s nose. They ceased their laughter and focused on Victor. When he noticed, he returned the gaze to Yuuri. “Do you want to talk about something?”  
  
“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me like you want to say something,” Victor said. “What do you want to say?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Victor nodded. Victor bit his lip.

“Why don’t you step into the bathroom with me?” Yuuri chuckled. “What?”

“No,” Yuuri said.

“Why not?”

“This is a café.”

“And?”

“Public enough,” Yuuri said.

“I was just going to kiss you. Your head is in the gutter.” Yuuri blushed and started to laugh. “Maybe later, if you want to, that is.” Yuuri eagerly nodded despite supposing to be wholly dedicated to ending things. Victor smiled. Yuuri looked down at his egg dish; he was almost done. “Do you want to?”

“I nodded,” Yuuri said.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” Yuuri sighed. Victor kissed Yuuri’s knuckles and smiled.

“I can’t wait to be with you during the day again,” Victor admitted. “There’s a mystique about the night that can be appreciated, but I don’t think we’ve reached the point in our relationship where we need to roleplay that we’re seeing other people yet. This has been nothing but stress since we’ve got here with avoiding Khoudia’s parents and our coaches and…”

“Everything,” Yuuri said with a dry chuckle.

“Right!” Victor smiled. “I just want to be able to leave my home and walk to see you and mean it to people who aren’t Chris.” Victor put his foot between Yuuri’s and started to run the instep up and down their pants leg. “Soon, though.”

“Soon,” Yuuri regrettably said.

“What are you doing when you get home?” Victor asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“Can’t I ask what my boyfriend is doing when he gets home?”

“You can.”

“So why question why I can?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. There was silence.

“So, what are you doing?”

“Sleeping,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. “Nothing too remarkable.”

“Let me sleep with you,” Victor said. Yuuri looked at him in confusion.

“You… already do? You have been the entire time?”

“Yuuri, it’s a play on words,” Victor said with a sigh. “I’m very aware that I regularly sleep with you. Your roommate got offended because I sleep with you. I’m very aware of our situation.”

“I wouldn’t say he was ‘ _offended_ ,’” Yuuri said. “Just…”

“Offended.”

“Yeah, offended, he was pretty offended.” Victor chuckled.

“Did you always have that problem with him?”

“Most of the action happened before we met, so he would have never expected…” Yuuri shrugged. “There was a guy, but we never really had much, so he knows nothing. He doesn’t want to know anything, and he works very hard to keep it that way.” Victor nodded. “So congrats, I suppose.” Victor chuckled. “He does like you, though.”

“He likes me because I’m _him_.”

“No, I hadn’t told him it was you until after I had been mentioning you for a while, so I think he likes you for you,” Yuuri said. “So, congrats.”

“You ever tell your ex-boyfriends about your ex-girlfriends?”

“Did you not want to know?”

“I wanted to, but you seem too used to doing this,” Victor said. “Just makes me wonder if I’m going to be the ex you talk about with your next girlfriend over tea.”

“Who said it was going to be a woman?”

“Your next boyfriend, then,” Victor said.

“Who said there would be a next?” Victor looked at Yuuri.

“Be serious.”

“I am. Who said there’d be a next?” Victor shook his head. A silence fell upon them. Yuuri got up and pushed themselves away from the table. Victor grabbed their wrist and pinched Yuuri’s peripheral nerve.

“Stay,” Victor said. Yuuri looked down at Victor’s hand disabling their wrist. “Not so comfortable, is it?”

“Not particularly,” Yuuri said. “Does it bother you?”

“Very much so.”

“Then I’ll never do it again,” Yuuri said. They grabbed Victor’s wrist and kissed the inside. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I thought you did it because you hated me caressing you,” Victor said. “That you thought so little of me that you didn’t want me to give you something in return.” Victor cupped Yuuri’s chin and tugged at their bottom lip. “I want to think that you accepted what I have to offer, but it’s so hard trying to read you at times.” Victor let go of Yuuri’s face and grabbed their chocolatine. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you back to your room. You could use the rest.”

“I could really use it with you.”

“Yuuri.”

“I’m talking about sleep,” Yuuri said. Victor chuckled. “I think I’d like it if you came back to my room with me.”

“You think?”

“I mean, I’d like it if you did, but no pressure or whatever,” Yuuri said. “No pressure.” Victor chuckled and grabbed Yuuri’s hand. “I don’t understand what your silence means.”

“Oh, I mean to be saying ‘yes,’” Victor said. “An emphatic, wholehearted yes.” Victor kissed Yuuri’s cheek. “Now, let’s get you back to the hotel before it rains.”

“It’s supposed to rain today?”

“Yes,” Victor said, “didn’t you check the weather?” Yuuri shook their head. “Do you at least have an umbrella?” Yuuri nodded. “So you have an umbrella, but don’t know if it’s going to rain?”

“It is important to _always_ carry an umbrella,” Yuuri said. Victor looked at Yuuri. Yuuri took out their umbrella and put it in Victor’s hand. “So the man with knowledge of the weather doesn’t have an umbrella? Tsk, tsk.”

“You don’t even know if the umbrella is going to be useful for you today.”

“You just said it’s going to rain. Of course I’m going to have use for it today.” Yuuri put their umbrella back in their bag. “I’d rather actually not need to find out. It totally depends on if my boyfriend decides to stop grandstanding.” Victor looked at Yuuri. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Fine, but –”

“No.”

“But –”

“The answer is still no,” Yuuri said. Victor rolled his eyes, and Yuuri pinched his chin. “Stop being bratty.”

“I’m not bratty; you’re just an asshole,” Victor said. He rolled his eyes harder. “What’s your sign?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your Zodiac sign?”

“Monkey.”

“Western.”

“Sagittarius.”

“Which would be…?”

“You’d save yourself more time if you just asked for my birthday,” Yuuri said.

“Fine, when is your birthday?”

“November 29,” Yuuri said. “Go wild. Tell me. I can take it.”

“Take what?” Victor asked.

“Isn’t this the part where I get dragged for being a Sagittarius male?”

“I wasn’t going to drag you,” Victor said. He took another bite of chocolatine and chewed. “But you being a Sagittarius probably explains a lot.” Victor took out his phone and started to check something. “Oh. Oh yeah. This explains… nothing I didn’t already guess, but at least I know it’s not just me.” Yuuri chuckled. “Do you usually get dragged for being a Sagittarius male?” Yuuri nodded. “I wonder why.” Yuuri cast Victor a glance.

“Was that one of those–”

“That was one of those, yes,” Victor said.

“Join the club,” Yuuri said. Victor looked at Yuuri.

“Who’s in the club?”

“2/3s of my ex-girlfriends,” Yuuri said. “I’m sure they would love to meet you.” Yuuri chuckled to themselves. “Yeah, they’d _love_ to meet you.”

“Do they know about me?”

“To a varying degree,” Yuuri said.

“Why aren’t your ex-boyfriends in the club?”

“They don’t know about its existence, or they distanced themselves from me so deeply that they would _never_ consider joining essentially a John Tucker Must Die club.”

“So there’s an ex-boyfriend who’s in your life… that doesn’t know about the club, but only your ex-girlfriends do.”

“Not exactly,” Yuuri said, “and only two of my three ex-girlfriends are in the club. The one who didn’t join just kind of dissipated into the ether after our relationship, and it just made me upset. But that’s neither here nor there.”

“So… who’s the ex-boyfriend who doesn’t know but is eligible?”

“The world isn’t ready for all of that tea to be spilled,” Yuuri said.

“Ready?”

“Come back to me in a few years or when we break up,” Yuuri said. “Whichever comes first.”

“So, it would be sooner if I broke up with you?” Victor asked. Yuuri’s heartbeat quickened. “I’m not going to! But I could – if I wanted to really find out – break up with you and you’d tell me?”

“No,” Yuuri said. “I don’t want him to know about its existence all that much, either.” Victor made an inquisitive sound. “But you’re not allowed to break up with me.”

“You’re not allowed to break up with _me_ ,” Victor said.

“No, no, you? Not allowed to break up with me,” Yuuri said. “This is just a fact.”

“Well, since I don’t want to leave you and you don’t want to leave me, why don’t we just get married?” Victor posed. Yuuri blushed. “I was kidding.” Victor looked away. “We’re almost back at the hotel. I’ll probably have to leave you soon.”

“You don’t _have_ to,” Yuuri said. “You said you were going to, but you don’t have to. You could… You could, ah, hang out with Yuri? Chris? Explore Marseilles?”

“Not without you,” Victor said.

“Then I’m afraid you’re not going to be exploring Marseilles any time soon.”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t particularly interested in exploring anyway.” Victor looked at Yuuri. They averted his gaze. Victor finished off the chocolatine. “Do you want to watch something when we get back to the hotel?”

“What if I just want to be in the silence with you?”

“Then you can have that.” Victor moved closer to Yuuri. “It’s so cold.”

“It is.”

“Can’t wait to be in a nice, warm bed with my nice, warm man,” Victor said. Yuuri looked at Victor. He moved closer and wrapped his arm around Yuuri.

“Are you trying to get in my pocket?”

“More like… no,” Victor said. He kissed Yuuri’s hair and fixed his hand in Yuuri’s pocket. He took out a wad of tissues. “Why?”

“You never know,” Yuuri said.

“These aren’t condoms – those you can ‘you never know,’” Victor said. “Do you anticipate your nose running?”

“No, but you never know,” Yuuri said. Victor sighed and put the tissue back in Yuuri’s pocket. “You know.”

“I mean, _yeah,_ I guess,” Victor said. “Your pockets are an adventure.”

“And your body is a wonderland.” Yuuri looked at the blush creep along Victor’s face. They playfully winked at Victor and nudged his forearm with their head. “So, we’re going to sleep?”

“Yes. You could use the sleep.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to do anything else?” Victor nodded.

“Nothing else I’d rather do,” Victor said. “Being in a warm bed with you is all I could ask for out of a day.” Victor nudged Yuuri’s head with his. They stopped in front of the hotel. “So, your room.” Yuuri nodded.

“You don’t have to come up with me,” Yuuri offered. “You can come after me.”

“No, I want to come in with you,” Victor said. He pulled Yuuri closer to him as they neared the door of the hotel and made eye contact with the receptionist at the counter as they walked by. Yuuri pushed the button for the elevator.

“People are staring,” Yuuri whispered.

“Not true. It’s just one person.” Yuuri looked at Victor. “That didn’t help?”

“Not in the slightest,” Yuuri said. The elevator came, and they got on and – fortunately – it was just them getting on.

“5, right?” Yuuri nodded. Victor kissed Yuuri’s hair as the elevator closed.

“We’re still not in the clear yet.” Victor sighed. The elevator quickly brought Victor and Yuuri to their destination: 5F. Yuuri opened their door, and Victor immediately went towards the bed. “At least take off your coat.”

“Take it off of me.” Yuuri looked at Victor. They took off their shoes and went over to Victor to take off his coat. Yuuri flipped him over and unbuttoned it. “Kiss me.”

“We’re going to sleep.”

“So? I still want you to kiss me.” Yuuri sucked their teeth and capitulated to Victor’s request. “Your face is so cold.” Victor let his finger trail down Yuuri’s jawline. “We’ll be under the covers soon, so I suppose it’s not too bad.” Yuuri forced themselves up and went back to sit Victor up. They decided it would be easier just to get Victor up and make the _travay_ that way. Yuuri pulled Victor up and brought him to the table and chairs. They unbuttoned his coat and took off his coat. “What are you doing?”

“Taking off your coat?”

“You exceeded all expectations for this situation,” Victor said with a laugh. “Continue.”

“I’m trying to make this easy,” Yuuri said. They lifted Victor’s shirt and signaled for him to raise his arms. Victor did as Yuuri requested, and Yuuri took his shirt off him. They folded it and placed it on the table. Then they started to push Victor towards the bed. He flopped on the bed and laughed. Yuuri got on their knees and began to untie Victor’s shoes. They pulled them off him and got back up. Victor started to kick his legs. “I’m getting there.” Yuuri unbuckled and unzipped Victor’s pants. They got on their knees and pulled Victor’s pants down from the legs. Yuuri tossed Victor’s pants on the floor. “And now you’re ready for bed.”

“You’re not,” Victor grumbled. “Lay down.” Yuuri complied and let Victor undress them. “Okay, get up. Let’s get under the covers. Yuuri nodded and crawled under the covers. They lifted an end for Victor, and he joined them; Victor cuddled up to Yuuri and kissed their shoulder. “This is nice.” Yuuri nodded and wistfully smiled. They reached for their phone and went to YouTube. “What are you doing?”

“Let’s watch something together,” Yuuri suggested. Victor nodded and kissed Yuuri’s forehead. “Hulu or YouTube?”

“Hulu,” Victor said.

“Do you want to pick the show?”

“No, inundate me with your television and film preferences,” Victor coaxed. “Wait! I have a suggestion!”

“Yes?”

“Let’s watch Cowboy Bebop,” Victor said. Yuuri nodded and searched for Cowboy Bebop on Hulu.

“Dubbed or subbed?”

“The one we watched last time.” Yuuri nodded. They propped their phone up on their knee and hit play. Victor kissed Yuuri and smiled. The theme song to Cowboy Bebop started, and they were enthralled in the adventures of Spike and Jet on the Bebop.

#

**(Saturday, 12 December 2015 –** **5:15pm, Marseille, France)**

“ _¡_ _Coñaso!_ ” Yuuri cussed as they reached for their phone. Victor wearily opened his eyes at the yelling and cussing. “What?!”

“Don’t yell at me! You’re supposed to be getting ready!” Celestino yelled. Victor rubbed his eyes and sat up. Yuuri hushed him with their index finger. “Khoudia is here, and you’re still at the hotel.”

“I’ll get up,” Yuuri grumbled. Victor reached for the nightstand and checked his phone. He blinked and made a face. Yuuri hung up and laid back down.

“My coach is yelling at me, too,” Victor said.

“I wish they’d just stop it,” Yuuri grumbled. “Can I have five more minutes?” Victor shook his head and sighed.

“I _wish_ we could have five more minutes, but we have to go,” Victor said. He traced his finger across Yuuri’s sternum. “Tonight, though. We can have all the five more minutes we want.” Victor kissed Yuuri and smiled. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Yuuri insolently said with an eye roll. Victor’s phone started to buzz; he ignored it. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

“So I can get yelled at for being late some more?”

“This relationship has made you messy,” Yuuri said. They forced themselves to roll over and out of bed. Victor sighed and picked up.

“Yes?” He closed his eyes. “I decided to sleep in. Watch yourself. I’m headed to the rink right now.” Victor ended the call.

“That was brusque,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t want to give you the impression that I’m ‘being messy,’” Victor said.

“All I’m saying is that it’s kind of suspect that we’re _both_ late,” Yuuri said. They put on their socks and quickly rushed over to their suitcase. “Khoudia and Chris are never going to let us live this down, you know.”

“Chris _wouldn’t_ ,” Victor said in an attempt at protection of his friend.

“Ah, but Khoudia _would_.” Victor and Yuuri looked at each other. “And as much as I _love_ and _adore_ her and believe me that I do, she is a walking disaster, and our relationship is so dynamic that I don’t know when she’s going to bring this exact moment up and embarrass me for the rest of my life so… We’re getting too complacent, and we have to tighten up.” Victor made a face. Yuuri threw on a throwback shirt. They evidently did not give a damn. “Ah, don’t make that face. I want to kiss you.”

“If you have to worry about your friend –”

“She means well, and it’s always in jest, but that’s how it starts. It always leads to a future, sober conversation, and how things need to be fixed.” Yuuri unballed their layers. “Khoudia and I function similarly. It’ll take too long to explain, but the best way to keep her mouth shut is to not give her anything to provoke her to open it.”

“So we have to hide to keep your friend’s mouth shut?”

“Not what I’m saying at all. She _encourages_ us to see and engage with each other when we’re at events. Just move in silence like lasagna, and we won’t have a problem.” Victor sat on the bed and looked at Yuuri.

“Yuuri, what the fuck does that even mean?”

“It’ll take too long to explain,” Yuuri said. “Just remember: lasagna.”

“Lasagna.”

“Now you’re getting it!” Yuuri said. They reached into their suitcase for deodorant and put it on. They gave it to Victor. “I feel like Chris is going to have to say something about that.”

“Your deodorant?” Yuuri nodded. “Probably.” Yuuri chuckled. Victor tossed it back to Yuuri, and they put it back in their suitcase. Yuuri looked at a pair of fishnet harem pants. “Give me that.” Yuuri looked at him. “The thing in your hands.” Yuuri gave it to Victor. Victor splayed it out for him to examine. “What the fuck.”

“Those are my fishnet pants.”

“You know these are _summer_ clothes, right?” Yuuri looked at them. “Oh God, is this why Phichit picks out your clothes?” Yuuri signed “more or less.” “Don’t let him stop, please.” Yuuri deadpanned. Victor tossed them into the suitcase and sat next to Yuuri on the floor. He picked up a black pair of track pants. “You have track pants. Wear these.” Yuuri unfolded them and started to put them on.

“You should get going,” Yuuri murmured.

“I should, but I don’t want to.”

“Don’t delay. We have to appease our coaches.” Victor sighed. He waited until Yuuri was dressed to walk towards the door. He kissed Yuuri goodbye, and Yuuri sighed. They put their shoes on, grabbed their equipment and coat, and rushed to the stadium to be bad at everything.

#

**(Saturday, 12 December 2015 – 7:42pm, Marseille, France)**

Tonight’s skate was a disaster if Yuuri’s ever experienced one. They should’ve known that something was up when they started hearing the voices again, but Yuuri decided to push on. They didn’t notify Khoudia, Coach Cialdini, or Phichit about this because they thought that it’d go away as quickly as it came. They were wrong, of course. Yuuri was always under the presumption that the voices would go as soon as they had arrived, and they were wrong every single time.

So Yuuri was out in the halls, looking at their phone and reading articles about their disastrous performances. Khoudia was nowhere to be seen, and that made Yuuri feel uncomfortable and extremely vulnerable.

“Yuuri, stop reading the articles,” Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri glanced over the headline again. “Katsuki Fell to Last Place. Is This Season His Last?” Yuuri took deep breaths and tried to focus on something that wasn’t the screen. “You did fine tonight. There’s always next year.”

“Not when there’s already rumors of retirement brewing amongst the press,” Yuuri said. They looked at their shoes. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Yuuri shoved their phone in their pocket and got up. They had the Bambi legs going on despite the lack of physical release. So Yuuri weakly walked in search of a bathroom.

When Yuuri found one of the bathrooms in the complex, they picked the least threatening stall. They stepped inside, closed it, and sat down. They tried to steady their erratic breathing. Then their phone rang. Yuuri looked down at their screen. It was their mom; they couldn’t _not_ pick up. “Hello?”

“ _Yuuri!_ ” Hiroko said. “ _How are you? How do you feel?_ ”

“ _I’m fine, Mama,_ ” Yuuri mumbled.

“ _Oh, I’d hope so!_ ” Yuuri could feel her smile through the phone. Yuuri weakly smiled. “ _You know, we had a viewing party for you._ ”

“ _Oh no,_ ” Yuuri said. “ _I’m so embarrassed!_ ” And Yuuri was. Their failings were exposed to the people back home. That’s one of the things Yuuri didn’t want to happen. Tears started to roll down their face, and they struggled to breathe again.

“ _You did very nice tonight,_ ” Yuuri’s mother said.

“ _No, I didn’t,_ ” Yuuri said. “ _You’re just saying that._ ”

“ _I’m not, my star. I genuinely don’t see anything wrong with your skating._ ” Yuuri sighed. “ _But, if you say something is wrong, I will believe you._ ” Yuuri wiped their eyes, not caring about their makeup anymore. “ _Your father is very proud of you, too,_ ” Yuuri’s mother said. Yuuri weakly smiled. “ _Yuko and Takeshi looked kind of worried for you. And I am, too. You looked sick during your interviews. Are you not taking care of yourself?_ ”

“ _I am, Mama. I just don’t know what’s going on._ ”

“ _Well, go to your doctor in America. And maybe come home for a bit. I’ll make you katsudon._ ” Yuuri weakly smiled. Yuuri heard the bathroom door open and shut.

“ _Mama, I should go. I think someone’s in my sta– I mean, dressing room._ ”

“ _Okay, I won’t keep you very long. I’m sure you have more things to do._ ”

“ _Okay, Mama._ I love you, Mama.” There was silence between them.

“ _Vicchan would have been very proud of you – to see that you’ve gotten so far._ ” Yuuri took a deep breath. Vicchan was an open, festering wound for them. They’ve never actually sat down and took the time to evaluate their feelings and let themselves heal. “ _I think I woke your father up. I should get going now. But we love you, too. Unconditionally and endlessly. Have a lovely night, my baby._ ” Yuuri’s mother ended the call. They put their head in their hands and let the tears fall freely. Yuuri wiped their eyes repeatedly until someone started to kick at their stall door frantically. Yuuri sniffled and opened the door. Victor’s small, waifish blonde was standing in front of them.

“Yes?” Yuuri murmured.

“You,” Yuri said. “I am going to be in the senior division next year, and the skating world has no need for trash like you. So retire. Stupid!” Yuuri nodded, and the tears sprung from their eyes. They started to wipe their eyes and sniffle. Yuri rolled their eyes and left the bathroom. They turned tail and went back in their stall to continue crying and heaving. After what felt like forever in crying years, Yuuri heard the door open and shut again.

“Yuuri? Are you here?” It’s Khoudia. Khoudia crouched down and looked under the stalls for feet. “Yuuri! Open the door.” Yuuri sniffled again and opened the door for Khoudia when she stood up straight. “Oh, baby,” she said, reaching up to touch Yuuri’s face. Khoudia stood on her tiptoes and kissed Yuuri’s nose. “Are you okay?” Yuuri shook their head. They sat back on the toilet. Khoudia closed the stall door and sat on Yuuri’s lap. She cradled their head and brought their face to her chest. “It’s okay. It’s okay. There’s always next year.” Yuuri started to cry harder. “Oh no, did that upset you?” Yuuri nodded. “Then I won’t talk about next year.” Khoudia made cooing sounds. “It’s going to be okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. Cry if you need to. I’m here.” So Yuuri cried and cried until they were heaving harder. This heaving came to a culmination when Yuuri forced Khoudia off their lap and started vomiting. Khoudia stroked Yuuri’s back as they vomited into the porcelain toilet bowl. When they were done vomiting, they continued to dry heave. “Rinse your mouth out,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded and got up. They exited the stall, weak and unsteady, and went to the sink. Their hands were too weedy to turn on the faucet. Khoudia turned on the water for them and helped Yuuri rinse their mouth. Khoudia rinsed Yuuri’s face and dried it with paper towels. “Do you think you’ll be okay enough to watch the skaters with us?” Yuuri shrugged. Khoudia stood on her toes and kissed Yuuri’s nose again. She grabbed their hand and gently escorted Yuuri out of the bathroom. Two people looked at them as they came out. Khoudia probably would’ve cared more if the circumstances were different, but Khoudia’s primary goal was to get Yuuri to where her parents were.

Khoudia’s parents were anxiously waiting for Jean-Jacques’ results. They don’t like or know about skating, but they were just as into it as much as a skating otaku would be. “Oh, you two are back,” Mama Awa said. Khoudia nodded. Yuuri kept their eyes on the ground. “You did very nicely,” Mama Awa said to Yuuri. Yuuri weakly smiled and returned their gaze to their shoes.

Everyone at the rink heard the feedback. “We apologize for that,” the announcer said. “We would now like to announce the scores for Jean-Jacques Leroy.” There was an anticipatory silence in the air. “Jean-Jacques Leroy scored 288.59 points.” The crowd erupted into cheers. Yuuri winced as they were hit with a sudden wave of nausea. Mama Awa looked over at them. Yuuri closed their eyes.

“Khoudia, what are you doing?” She whispered.

“Yuuri isn’t feeling well.”

“Then take him back to the hotel.” Khoudia patted Yuuri’s back again. “Do you want to go back to the hotel, Yuuri?” Mama Awa asked.

“I’ll go after Victor Nikiforov skates,” Yuuri murmured.

“Huh?” Mama Awa said. “Speak louder, hummingbird. I can barely hear you.”

“They said they’ll go after Victor skates,” Khoudia told her mother.

“Are you sure? You do not look too well.” Mama Awa leaned over to touch Yuuri’s face. “And you are so pallid and clammy, too. Kiki, how did you let your friend get so bad?” Khoudia rolled her eyes. Mama Awa wiped Yuuri’s face with her small, soft hands. “You should get back to the hotel. If you are still feeling bad, we will take you to the doctor when we get home.”

“That’s unnecessary, Mama Awa. I’ll be fine,” Yuuri weakly said.

“Are you sure?” Yuuri nodded. “Alright, then. If you are still feeling bad, let me or Kiki know.” Yuuri nodded again. Mama Awa told Khoudia something in Arabic, and Khoudia nodded.

“We would now like to announce four consecutive Grand Prix winner, Victor Nikiforov!” The announcer said. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Yuuri covered their ears. Khoudia let go of Yuuri’s hand and wrapped her arms around them. The cheering of the crowd died down when Victor gracefully skated to the center of the ice. “Victor Nikiforov will be skating ‘Stammi Vicino, Non Te Ne Andare’ for his free skate. The music is an original operatic piece – an aria.” The music started playing.

“Your baby is skating,” Khoudia whispered in Yuuri’s ear. “Open your eyes.” Yuuri took a deep breath and opened their eyes. Victor made a swooning gesture, and Yuuri felt tears well up in their eyes. What wasn’t making them cry about Victor’s skate? Everything about it was perfect: his music choice, his skating, his emoting, his body. Victor was absolutely fucking it up in the classiest of ways. The strings and woodwinds in the song were compelling, and Yuuri felt the tears run down their face. They started rocking. Mama Awa looked over at them and nudged Khoudia.

“What is he doing? Why is he rocking? Is he crying?” Mama Awa asked loud enough for Yuuri and Khoudia to hear.

“They’re just really overwhelmed, Mama,” Khoudia explained. She stroked their back.

“Are you sure that you should be touching him like that? He has a girlfriend, Kiki.”

“So?” Khoudia said. “She isn’t here to calm them down, and I am right here. I’m going to console our hummingbird.” Khoudia squeezed Yuuri as tight as she could. “They need me, Mama. They need me, and their girlfriend isn’t here.” Mama Awa shrugged and resumed paying attention to Victor’s performance. Yuuri kept their mocca eyes peeled and focused on Victor.

When Victor’s performance was over, and he stepped off of the ice, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Victor hugged his coach and followed him to the kiss and cry. It was no secret that Victor was going to win tonight.

And win Victor did. He accumulated 335.76 points.

#

**(Saturday, 12 December 2015 – 8:37pm, Marseille, France)**

After Victor’s skate, Yuuri excused themselves from Mouhamadou, Mama Awa, and Khoudia to cry and vomit in a nearby bathroom. Yuuri didn’t know how anything was even coming up anymore; they hadn’t eaten much this morning, and they didn’t eat anything before their skate. But they were vomiting.

After Yuuri finished, they went to find Khoudia. Coach Cialdini had asked Khoudia to stay back with them instead of going to the hotel with her parents. So Coach Cialdini and Khoudia were waiting in the lobby for Yuuri to return from the bathroom. They wanted to be sure that they didn’t have to vomit anymore before they reached the hotel. Yuuri had dropped off their coat and bags with Khoudia, and Khoudia was sitting on her Zuca.

“Oh, there you are!” Khoudia said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to vomit again,” Yuuri said. They timidly put on their coat again. Khoudia stretched up to peek over Yuuri’s shoulder. “What?” Yuuri looked behind themselves.

“ _Katsuki Yuuri!_ ” It was Hisashi Morooka, one of Yuuri’s more fervent supporters outside of the actual skater figure skating realm. “ _Don’t give up!_ ” Yuuri deadpanned. “ _It’s too early for you to retire!_ ”

“ _I hadn’t made any decisions regarding that yet. Please do not make assumptions._ ” Khoudia took out her phone to text Phichit.

“ _What will you do after you graduate from college?_ ” Hisashi asked. Yuuri shrugged. “ _Will you still train in Detroit?_ ”

“ _I’ll be talking that over with Coach Cialdini,_ ” Yuuri murmured.

“ _Katsuki-kun, I’m asking you how you feel about this!_ ” Yuuri shrugged. They were starting to feel sick again, and they couldn’t just dash off to the nearest bathroom. “ _Will you keep going? Maybe just part-time, at least? You’ll still have a chance back in Japan._ ” Yuuri shrugged again. Khoudia peeked over Yuuri’s shoulder again. Victor, Yuri, and Yakov Feltsman were coming through with their equipment.

“Yuri, about your free performance,” Victor said. “Your step sequence could use some more work.”

“I won, so who cares?” Victor’s blonde said in response. They were approaching their coach; Yuuri’s eyes followed Victor as he walked past them.

“Yuri, you need to stop Snapchatting other skaters while you’re on the ice. You need to see where you’re going,” Yakov chastised. Yuuri kept their eyes on Victor. Victor peeked behind himself. He looked startled, but he smiled anyway.

“A commemorative photo?” Victor chirped. “Sure!” Yuuri looked at Victor, finger gunned him, grabbed their Zuca, and started to walk away.

“ _Yuuri! Yuuri!_ ” Hisashi said. “ _You don’t want a photo with Victor?_ ”

“ _No, go away,_ ” Yuuri said. Then they turned around and patted Hisashi’s shoulder. “ _I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. But still, go away._ ” Yuuri scuttled away from Hisashi, Coach Cialdini, Victor, and Khoudia.

“I am oh so sorry about that,” Khoudia said quickly, her voice cracking. She leaped off her Zuca, grabbed it, and immediately followed behind Yuuri. “Wait for me!” She yelled.

“Stop yelling!” Yuuri yelled back as they opened the door to exit. Once Yuuri reached the corner, they stopped walking and waited for Khoudia to catch up.

“What the fuck was _any_ of today?” Khoudia asked once she caught up to Yuuri. “You were late to the stadium, you–” Yuuri shushed Khoudia. “Don’–” Yuuri shushed Khoudia louder. “You were la–” Yuuri screeched. “Bitch shut the fuck up before you’re forced to say goodbye to your kneecaps! You were late! You know how to tell time! What the fuck did that man have you doing that made you so late?!”

“We were taking a long nap,” Yuuri said. “Neither of us had an alarm set, so we woke up late.”

“You’re lucky no one else noticed that both of you were late.”

“Oh God,” Yuuri said.

“What? I just started talking.”

“No, I had told Victor that I don’t know when, but that you would bring it up eventually. I just didn't expect eventually being right now,” Yuuri said. “I’m pretty good at this.” Yuuri mentally patted themselves on the back. “I told him that we just have to be more careful about how we operate. At events and at home.” Yuuri sighed. “I get that he’s in love, and he’s over the moon about us being together for gods know what reason, but we’re getting too careless.”

“Oh good, even you’ve noticed it,” Khoudia said. “Okay, so you’ve recognized that you two need to tighten up. Next step? Doing it.”

“He isn’t going to like any of the suggestions I might have on how we can still be together, but… Actually, he’s _really_ not going to like them, and I don’t think I like any of them either, truth be told.” Khoudia frowned. “I’ve gotten too comfortable being able to let my hair down.”

“Not saying that you have to forsake your comfort. You just need to move differently.” Yuuri nodded. “Anyone with a little bit of notoriety has to move differently in their relationships – especially when you’re with someone with a bit of notoriety, too. If you’re not going to reject having romantic relationships entirely, you just have to. Even more when you’re one of us. I’m sorry, hummin’bird.” Yuuri shrugged. “You and Victor can do this, though.”

“Thank you for believing in us.”

“Trust me, I have too much invested in this relationship to see it fizzle out,” Khoudia said. Yuuri sighed. “And speaking of Victor, why did you do that to him?”

“I need a cigarette.”

“Answer the question. Did something happen?”

“We have the light,” Yuuri murmured. They continued walking, and Khoudia followed behind them.

“Come on,” Khoudia whined. “What’s good with you? How do you feel?”

“My brain froze,” Yuuri said. “I didn’t know what to do, so I just did that.”

“You couldn’t even wink at him or something?” Yuuri shook their head. “Pitiful, just pitiful.”

“He’s going to have questions tonight,” Yuuri said. “I don’t know what answer I could give him that’s more explanatory than ‘my brain froze.’”

“He’s not one of us, is he?” Yuuri shook their head. “He won’t get it then. You’ll just have to start breaking shit to give him a taste of hell.”

“It’s the only way,” Yuuri said with a goofy grin. “He wants me to go to the doctor when we get home.”

“Oh good,” Khoudia said. “You need to.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and sighed. “And, while we’re tangentially on the topic, you didn’t do that bad! You just placed sixth amongst the crème de la crème of the skating world! That’s pretty fucking great!” Yuuri shrugged and started to feel their stomach be a bastard. The feeling radiated up their esophagus, and they felt their mouth become a disgusting, bile-tinted hurricane. “There’s always next year, at least.”

“Yeah…” Yuuri said. They stopped and let go of their equipment.

“You good?”

“No,” Yuuri said. Their esophagus started to spasm, and they doubled over. Khoudia ran over and held Yuuri’s short hair back. They took a deep breath to try and feel normal, but the normalcy was soon followed by the feeling of bitter bile coming up their throat. Khoudia rubbed Yuuri’s back as they vomited in between someone’s cars. Yuuri was heaving until nothing came up and then some.

“I’m glad Victor is asking you to go to the doctor,” Khoudia said. She went into her bag and gave Yuuri her water. “Rinse your mouth out. I’ll waterfall for you.” Yuuri nodded and waited for their body to stop contracting. Khoudia rubbed their back and chest. “I wish there was a corner store nearby. You need ginger ale.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Khoudia said. Yuuri stood up straight. Khoudia relevéd but failed to reach Yuuri’s mouth. “Get down.” Yuuri crouched down. Khoudia uncapped her water bottle and waterfalled it into Yuuri’s mouth. “Swish.” Yuuri did as Khoudia said and stood up. They swished the water around and spit. “When we get to the hotel, rinse your mouth with mouthwash.” Yuuri nodded and spat again. “You good?” Yuuri nodded. “You sure?” Yuuri nodded. Khoudia touched Yuuri’s arm and motioned for them to continue. “Any thoughts?”

“I need a cigarette right now. And a shower. And my weighted blanket.”

“You need a lot of things right now, and I don’t think a cigarette is one of them; however, those other two things are perfectly fine.”

“I don’t know if I want to watch anime with Victor now,” Yuuri said. They belched and feared a second wave of vomiting. “I just want to go home and sleep.”

“Soon, baby,” Khoudia said. They reached the hotel. “I’ll come up with you for a bit.” Yuuri nodded. They rested their head on Khoudia’s. She wiped her scrunched up face.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Khoudia said. “You just breathed on me, and it was weird.” Yuuri shrugged and awkwardly smiled. “Do you want to take a shower when you get upstairs?”

“I’d like to, but I don’t know what to wear,” Yuuri said.

“I’ll handle that,” Khoudia said. “You just worry about feeling better.” Yuuri nodded. The elevator came, and Yuuri and Khoudia were the only two to get on despite the hotel being packed. She pushed the button for five and leaned on Yuuri. “Do you have your lavender body wash?” Yuuri nodded. “Use that and put a cool, damp rag on your eyes when you lay down.” Yuuri nodded. The elevator stopped on five and Yuuri and Khoudia got off. They walked to 5F, and Khoudia opened the door with Yuuri’s keycard.

Yuuri immediately started to get undressed for their shower. Khoudia was going through Yuuri’s bags for clothes and her equipment.

“I’m going to get in now,” Yuuri said.

“Not yet!” Khoudia said. “Lay down on the bed and keep your eyes closed.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. She quickly prepped the pen and sat at Yuuri’s head. She placed her hand over a fatty spot on Yuuri’s stomach.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m seeing something,” Khoudia said. She quickly pushed the plunger of the pen into Yuuri’s stomach and held it. After a few seconds, she removed it and started to put the fresh pen into Yuuri’s carry-on bag.

“Did you give yourself a shot?”

“Yeah,” Khoudia said, amazed that Yuuri didn’t feel the needle. “Lay down for a little bit.” She rubbed Yuuri’s shoulders. “Let’s see if your fridge has ginger ale.” Khoudia quickly put her items away and went to Yuuri’s fridge. There was a lemon Perrier, and that just had to do. Khoudia came back and gave the Perrier to Yuuri. “Time to be bourgeois.” Yuuri chuckled. Khoudia opened the bottle for them and gave it to Yuuri. They took a sip. “Did you have any macarons yet?” Yuuri shook their head. “Do you think you’re able to stomach any tonight?” Yuuri shook their head. “Okay.” Yuuri wiped their forehead. “Do you want to watch something while you rest a bit?”

“I just want to go take a shower already. I feel disgusting,” Yuuri complained. “Can I go shower now?”

“Okay. Holler if you need me,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded and forced themselves out of bed and rubbed their new itchy area.

#

**(Saturday, 12 December 2015 – 9:39pm, Marseille, France)**

When Yuuri got out of the shower, they heard muttered voices. They were different from the hallucinations in the sense that they could _feel_ these, but they still didn’t know if they were real. The mirror in the bathroom was steamy, and Yuuri’s skin was red from the water. Yuuri could hardly see the door because the steam, but Yuuri didn’t need to be able to see the entrance to dry off. So Yuuri dried off in the hot, steamy bathroom and put on the clothes Khoudia put out for them. As she promised, she took Yuuri’s clothes from tonight and put them away.

When Yuuri dried off and left the bathroom, Khoudia was quickly whispering to Victor about something. “…What?”

“Oh! Yuuri!” Khoudia chirped. She got up and approached them. “How do you feel?”

“Cold, but I _did_ just get out of the shower,” Yuuri said. Khoudia touched Yuuri’s forehead. “What were you two talking about?”

“Just his fifth win,” Khoudia said.

“In whispers?” Khoudia looked at Yuuri. “Do you want to go upstairs now? Or do you want to talk to him some more?”

“I think I’ll go upstairs now,” Khoudia said. She gathered up her things. “Congrats on your fifth consecutive win, Victor.” She gave him a hug and a kiss. Yuuri escorted Khoudia to the door. “Goodnight, Yuuri.” Khoudia kissed Yuuri’s cheek and left. Yuuri looked back at Victor and folded their hands.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri said.

“You look cool,” Victor said. He took off his shirt and tossed it towards the table. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“No,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri, you don’t even have to get a big meal. Just get a salad.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Victor sighed. He started to pull off his pants and go to bed. Yuuri climbed into bed and rolled on their front. They realized they hadn’t taken their medicine yet, but they didn’t feel the need to, nor did they think that they would be able to keep them down. Yuuri reached for their phone and started to scroll through Twitter.

“I don’t think you’re fat,” Victor said. “I like your body.” Victor put his hand on Yuuri’s back. “It’s soft and comfortable, and I love touching it.” Yuuri stayed silent. “It’s just a salad.”

“I don’t want a salad. I’m not hungry.”

“You should eat something. You didn’t eat much today.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“But you’re not.”

“Go to sleep,” Yuuri said. They rolled on their side and got comfortable to watch something on their phone. Victor left kisses up and down Yuuri’s neck to provoke some sort of response. “Stop.” Victor stopped and sighed. He cuddled up to them anyway. Yuuri sat up and reached to turn off the lights.

“Do you want the lights off?” Yuuri nodded. Victor turned off the light on his side and waited for Yuuri to get situated before he got comfortable again. He traced circles on Yuuri’s shoulder. “You did nice tonight.”

“Says the five-time gold medalist,” Yuuri said.

“I think you did good,” Victor said.

“Says the five-time gold medalist.”

“You weren’t going to get gold with me competing, and we both know this,” Victor said. Yuuri looked back at him deadpan. “Well… You weren’t.”

“Just stop,” Yuuri said.

“Yeah, I should stop,” Victor said. He resumed cuddling. “Can you not be a dead fish when I’m trying to hold you?”

“I’m comfortable like this, though.” Victor sighed and adjusted himself.

“What are you doing Saturday?”

“Sleeping,” Yuuri said. “Why?”

“I would like to see you,” Victor said. “We can go out for drinks or dinner.”

“Sure,” Yuuri said. Victor kissed Yuuri’s shoulder and rubbed their forearm. “What did I tell you?”

“I wasn’t trying to be sexual. You feel cold.” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m trying to warm you up.” Yuuri remained silent. “Would you rather I give you my hoodie?”

“Do whatever,” Yuuri said. Victor got out of bed and went to his clothes. He picked up his hoodie and gave it to Yuuri. Yuuri put it on and zipped it up. They returned to watching their VICE video.

“Do you like VICE?”

“I can appreciate their journalism,” Yuuri said. “I just really appreciate journalism and journalistic practices.” Victor nodded. “My sister could go into journalism, and it’d be really cool to have a journalist for a sister, but she doesn’t want to. Instead, she writes books.” Yuuri rolled their eyes.

“Yuuri.”

“Yeah?”

“ _I_ write books,” Victor said.

“Oh, how unfortunate,” Yuuri said. Victor deadpanned.

“I would consider myself a _very_ good writer,” Victor said.

“Of course, you would.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “What _aren’t_ you good at?”

“Ballet,” Victor quickly said. “Art.” Yuuri looked at him.

“I’m more than dance and visual art,” Yuuri said. Victor bit his lip.

“I’m sure you are, but I don’t know anything about the person you are aside from dancing, skating, and art,” Victor said. Yuuri frowned. “Do you play any instruments?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said. “But it’s not that amazing.”

“I’m sure you’re amazing, though.” Victor wrapped his arm around Yuuri again. “Have you thought of learning any other instruments?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how I’ll afford them,” Yuuri said.

“We’ll find a way,” Victor said. “So you’re an amazing instrumentalist, and you have a sense for music. What else?” Yuuri internally rolled their eyes at that description of their music skills. They never considered themselves _bad_ at it – just not good.

“I did jujutsu and judo for a few months,” Yuuri said. “I don’t really like mentioning or using it, though.”

“Try it on me,” Victor said.

“I’d rather n–”

“Yuuri, it’s fine,” Victor urged. “Try it.” Yuuri swallowed. Victor kissed their cheek. “Let’s try.” Victor eagerly got out of bed and stood. Yuuri paused their video and sighed, dragging themselves out of bed to practice their shame on Victor. Yuuri looked at where they were standing and stepped back a bit.

“Okay, lay on the bed,” Yuuri said. Victor looked at Yuuri. “It’s for the demonstration. Lay on the bed.” Victor laid on the bed. “Are you ready?” Victor nodded. Yuuri crawled in between his legs and locked them behind him. Yuuri grabbed the waistband of Victor’s boxers and leaned forward, putting Victor’s head between their head and shoulders and working their arm behind his head. They started to shift sideways to pinion Victor’s ankle in their armpit. They pushed their hip into Victor’s floating ribs and sat up. “Feel free to try and get out, by the way.” Yuuri looked down at Victor; he didn’t move. Yuuri released Victor and looked at him. “Are you okay?” Victor slowly nodded, his face rose red. He reached out and grabbed Yuuri’s forearm. Yuuri broke out of his grasp. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Yuuri moved to get from in between Victor’s legs, but he locked them in. “I want to sleep.” Victor unlocked his legs to let Yuuri go. Yuuri got up and got back into bed. Victor, resigned, crawled back under the covers, too, and cuddled up to Yuuri. Yuuri ignored the thing poking into their back and resumed watching their video.

“Why do you know judo?” Victor asked after what felt like after one-hundred years of silence.

“My grandfather was super sexist. He insisted that my mom put me in something ‘better’ than ballet.” Victor nodded. “So that.”

“What did you do to me?”

“ _Kesa gatame_ , also known as, the scarf hold,” Yuuri said. “It’s a beginner’s hold, but it’s a fundamental one.” They shrugged. Victor reached for the nightstand on his side to grab his phone. “Are you going to go to sleep now?”

“I think so,” Victor said. Yuuri paused the video and rolled on their stomach. “You don’t have to stop watching your thing.” Yuuri stayed silent. Victor got himself situated in bed. Victor sighed and looked at Yuuri. “What?” Yuuri kissed Victor. “Oh.”

“Goodnight,” Yuuri said.

“Yeah,” Victor said, “goodnight.” Yuuri rolled on their side and resumed watching their video. “Yuuri?”

“Yeah?”

“I wish I could understand you better,” Victor said. He stretched out brought his forearm over his eyes, and let his other hand find its way to the back of Yuuri’s head. “I wish I could.”

#


	57. Break From Marseilles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date before the banquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually just remembered something really important re: tags and there is no SA in this. (Honestly this entire thing just melds together; I've been doing this for too long and my brain is bad.)
> 
> So I will be amending that as soon as I remember how I did it last time :)

#

**(Sunday, 13 December 2015 –** **5:08am, Marseille, France)**

Yuuri couldn’t sleep after Victor told them that he wished he could understand them. To get their mind off how his words struck the most profound chord in them. They had to draw – more or less – to get the feelings away since words were one of the many things they couldn’t grasp since Victor had gone to bed after a situation that took many unexpected twists and turns got out of hand and ended with a thick, humid tension in the room and their marital bed. Yuuri needed a way to deal, and drawing was their only way to cope because words had failed them, yet again.

Yuuri reached for their art journal. Victor stirred. “Where are you going?” Victor murmured.

“Oh, you’re awake?” Victor nodded. Yuuri stopped reaching for their art journal and rolled over to face Victor.

“Only because you were fidgeting.” Yuuri smiled. “What are you doing?”

“I was getting my journal.” Victor nodded. “I haven’t decided if I was going to do something in it, though.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Talk about what we’re going to do today,” Victor said. Yuuri looked at him. “I’d like to have a day with you, but no pressure if you don’t want to.” Victor averted Yuuri’s gaze. “Or you can talk about the banquet tonight.”

“I’d rather talk about what we’re doing today,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled. “What would you like to do?”

“I’d like to go to a museum with you since we missed our usual art date.” Yuuri weakly smiled. “After that, we can do anything. We could run away to Aubange and just be together freely. And once we get tired of Aubagne, we can work our way to Martigues. I can write, and you can dance, and it’d be so nice.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Victor,” Yuuri said.

“Then why don’t we do it?” Victor asked. “Let’s run away together.” Yuuri kissed Victor. “Is that a yes?”

“Let’s plan our running away a bit more,” Yuuri said.

“By the time we get to planning, we’ll be back in Detroit,” Victor said with a pout. “We can leave right now.”

“Khoudia and Chris will come searching for us,” Yuuri said. Victor rolled his eyes. “Right. We need to plan our runaway out.”

“Fine,” Victor grumbled. “We can plan it out… Even though eloping _is_ more romantic.”

“You’re too romantic,” Yuuri said. “Soft. Sensitive.”

“You’re romantic, soft, and sensitive,” Victor retorted. Yuuri smiled and rolled their eyes. He kissed them. “I’m only this way because I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Yuuri yawned. “You still hadn’t told me what you would like to do after we go to the museum.”

“We can eat,” Victor said. “I mean, _I’d_ like to go out to eat.”

“You eat a lot.”

“…Yes? We’re humans? We’re supposed to eat?”

“That is such bullshit. I’m going on a hunger strike.” Victor laughed. Yuuri looked over at him and wistfully smiled. “Would you like to hear a song?” Victor nodded. “Hey Siri,” Yuuri said and waited. Their phone pinged. “Play ‘Shadowplay.’” Siri found the song and started to play it.

“What am I listening to?”

“‘Shadowplay’ by Joy Division,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. He rested his head on Yuuri’s chest and closed his eyes. He drew circles on their chest. “In a room with a window in the corner, I found truth,” Yuuri murmured. Victor exhaled. “In th–”

“Why?”

“Pardon?”

“Why a shadowplay?” Victor asked. He rolled his wrist. “Why not just… Why not just be happy?”

“In what way does simply willing happiness change anything?”

“Well, you’d be happier,” Victor said. “You wouldn’t be so brooding if you were happier.” Yuuri shrugged. “Do you like feeling so miserable?”

“I don’t particularly _enjoy_ it, but it’s a feeling,” Yuuri said.

“So why not just change and feel something new?” Victor splayed his fingers across Yuuri’s chest and retracted them. “Just be happy.”

“Just _be_ happy,” Yuuri said with an eye roll.

“You’d probably feel so much better if you were just happy,” Victor said. “People would probably like you a lot more if you were happy.” Yuuri deadpanned. “I’d sleep better if you could just be happy.”

“Your sleep shoul–”

“I knew you’d go there,” Victor said with an eye roll. “I wish I could be able to say that I knew you wouldn’t, but I knew you would.” Yuuri shrugged. “Try?” Yuuri looked at Victor. “For me?” Yuuri maintained nonchalance. “I love you,” Victor cajoled. He pinched Yuuri’s chin. Victor let go to give Yuuri the space to speak. “No?”

“The world isn’t ready for what I have to say.” Victor deadpanned. “But _you_ wanted to say something, though. What is it?”

“Just that I love you,” Victor said. “What else are we doing today?” Victor snapped his fingers. “That’s what I wanted to say. What else would you like to do?”

“Whatever you want,” Yuuri said. “The possibilities are endless. But I know that you want to go to the museum, eat, have our date after, run off to Aubagne, discuss how…” Victor looked up at Yuuri. “Whatever you want.”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Victor said. He grabbed Yuuri’s phone and propped it between his and Yuuri’s bodies. He grabbed Yuuri’s thumb and unlocked their phone. “What do you want to watch?” Yuuri shrugged. “Let’s watch Cake Boss,” Victor suggested. Yuuri looked at him. “Yes? No?”

“Do you want to watch Cake Boss?” Victor nodded. “Then let’s watch Cake Boss.” Victor put on Cake Boss between them. “I didn’t know you liked this show,” Yuuri said.

“Not a lot of people do,” Victor said. “Let’s keep it like that, though.” Victor snuggled up to Yuuri and smiled. “How should we announce?” Victor asked.

“What?”

“Yuuri.”

“I have no clue what’s going on right now,” Yuuri said. “My brain shorted.” Victor sighed. He kissed Yuuri’s cheek. “Victor,” Yuuri said; they put their fingers in his hair. Victor paused Cake Boss and kissed Yuuri.

“Are you okay now?”

“I would like to suppose so,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. “I mean, I would like to be.” Yuuri shrugged, though. “I wish I could be.”

“You will be,” Victor said. He unpaused Cake Boss. Yuuri looked at Victor and touched him. “When do you want to start our day?”

“How does 10:30am sound?”

“Perfect,” Victor said.

#

**(Sunday, 13 December 2015 – 7:26am, Marseille, France)**

Victor was reading Yuuri’s copy of _Crime and Punishment_ as someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?” Victor asked. He mentally cursed after he said that. It could be someone who doesn’t need to know that he’s in Yuuri’s room. He didn’t want to risk outing himself _and_ Yuuri in one swoop.

“It’s Khoudia,” the voice said. Victor put down _Crime and Punishment_ and got out of bed. He stretched and opened the door. “Oh, good morning, Victor.”

“Good morning, Khoudia,” Victor said, slightly fumbling over her name. She smiled.

“Is Yuuri awake?” She asked, still smiling.

“No, he’s asleep,” Victor said. “Do you want me to wake him?”

“I just want to know if they’re coming to breakfast with me,” Khoudia said. She made her way inside and sat at the desk. Victor inwardly sighed and closed the door.

“He said that he was coming with your family for breakfast.” Khoudia nodded. “Something about your mother possibly getting worried about him.”

“Ah,” Khoudia said, “my mother _would_ get worried. Especially since Yuuri isn’t feeling well.” Victor nodded and smiled. He sat on the bed. “Are you worried?”

“About what?”

“Yuuri being sick.”

“Why wouldn’t I be worried?” Victor asked. Khoudia sweetly smiled.

“Don’t worry. My mom and I will do everything to make sure your Yuuri is okay.” Khoudia played with the pen on the desk. “We’ve agreed to take them to a doctor when we get home." Victor nodded. 

“Good,” Victor said. “I don’t know what exactly is wrong with him, but he needs to see a doctor.”

“I have my guesses, but the real obstacle is going to be getting them there,” Khoudia said. “Yuuri’s bad when it comes to doctors.”

“But they see a therapist.”

“Therapists are the exception,” Khoudia explained. “Your therapist is your psych major homegirl. Your doctor gets paid.”

“So… does your therapist.”

“Gets paid *more.”

“…No, they don’t,” Victor said.

“The point I’m trying to make is that you have an emotional connection to your therapist that you often lack with primary care physicians,” Khoudia said. Victor looked at Khoudia and sighed. “But yeah, Yuuri’s kind of a hassle to get to the doctor but rest assured that we have it covered and that there might be IHOP.”

“I would hope that there’s IHOP,” Victor said.

“Do you even know what IHOP is?”

“No,” Victor said.

“I would invite you, but I – within good reason – cannot,” Khoudia said.

“Why not?”

“I’d tell you, but I think you should ask Yuuri about that first,” Khoudia said.

“So, you know what it is?”

“I know it’s probably related,” Khoudia said. “And I know that Yuuri wouldn’t appreciate so many people being this involved in it. And that I have a unique place in this and that I should leverage my strength into maintaining the sanctity of the space.”

“And keep me out,” Victor said.

“Yes,” Khoudia said. Victor looked at her. “You can _ask_ Yuuri to come. I just won’t step out of my place and invite you along.” She shrugged.

“You know Yuuri is going to say ‘no,’” Victor said.

“In this case, yeah,” Khoudia said. “So, you’ll have to find out what IHOP is another time.” Victor deadpanned. “I’m not Yuuri. Your faces won’t work with me.” Victor chuckled.

“Can I at least get a hint?” Khoudia shook her head. “Can you at least tell me if it’s contagious?” Khoudia laughed – her real laugh. After a few seconds, Yuuri was awake.

“…”

“Good morning,” Khoudia said. “Just thought I should properly introduce myself to your boyfriend.”

“I could guess,” Yuuri said. “Did you have to laugh?”

“He was being funny. I can at least laugh.”

“Okay, but _that_ laugh?” Yuuri asked.

“It is 7:45 in the morning.”

“You’re being _social_.”

“So?” Yuuri and Khoudia looked at each other. “Get ready for breakfast – if you’re coming.” Yuuri looked back at Victor.

“Surely, you’re adult enough to determine whether or not you can go to breakfast after determining who can and cannot know about your mystery illness,” Victor said. Yuuri looked at Victor.

“I think I missed something…” Yuuri said.

“You missed quite a bit,” Khoudia said. “Like, a lot. We can discuss it after breakfast. Are you coming?” Yuuri tentatively nodded. “Then start getting ready. We’re already late.” Yuuri got out of bed and opened their suitcase. They started to rummage around for something to wear. “Do you need help?”

“I’ve got this,” Yuuri said. Victor got out of bed and sat next to Yuuri. “I said that I could pick out my clothes.”

“I know you can, but I want to be part of the process,” Victor wheedled. Yuuri sighed and resumed the process. They tried to continue, but their brain was currently on fire. “Can’t decide?” Yuuri nodded. “Need someone else to take over?” Yuuri nodded. “Go take your shower. I’ll see you when you get out.” Victor kissed Yuuri’s cheek.

“Are you two both going to sit here as I shower?”

“Yes,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at Victor. He begrudgingly nodded.

“Fine,” Yuuri said. “I guess I’ll try to shower with two people outside.”

“You’ll be fine,” Khoudia assured them. She patted Yuuri’s shoulder as they walked by. “Knock ‘em dead, Katsucky.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Yuuri said. Khoudia cackled. Yuuri rushed themselves off to the bathroom and closed the door behind them. They undressed and looked at themselves in the mirror. There were bags under their eyes, and they were pallid. They looked slightly worse a few days ago, so just being pale and looking like a raccoon was somehow a step up. They touched their clavicles and clawed at them as they stretched. After they got the feeling out, they looked at themselves again. “Nope. Still depressed.” Yuuri sighed and turned on the shower. If they were going to go out looking like a pasty raccoon, they could at least be a _clean_ , pasty raccoon.

Towards the end of the shower, Yuuri had to step out since they could tell that they were going to vomit. And they vomited quite a lot. Once again, Yuuri was confused at how anything was even coming up when they hadn’t eaten much yesterday. Yuuri didn’t know how they were going to eat breakfast or eat lunch with Victor when they couldn’t keep anything down. Yuuri got back into the shower to wash away the sweat and the feeling of vomiting off them and brush their teeth again. That extended Yuuri’s shower by about twelve minutes since Yuuri wanted to be thorough.

When Yuuri was out of the shower and dressed, Khoudia was on her phone, and Victor was reading _Crime and Punishment_. Yuuri stopped in their tracks when they saw Victor with the book in their hands. “Where did you get that?”

“Nightstand,” Victor said. “You didn’t tell me that you were reading it.” Yuuri sharply inhaled. Khoudia looked up from her phone and giggled. “We can talk about it!”

“I was hoping to surprise you with reading it,” Yuuri murmured. “But I wanted to wait until I was done to tell you.” Victor smiled.

“Well, regardless, I am surprised and glad.” Victor closed _Crime and Punishment_ and placed it back on the nightstand. Now Yuuri didn’t want to finish it.

“Are you going to breakfast with Chris?” Victor nodded. Yuuri sat on their bed next to Victor. “Do you know where you’re going?” Victor shook his head. “You should get ready for breakfast.” Yuuri kissed his cheek.

“I will as soon as you tell me that you’re going to be okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yuuri said. “I promise. I’ll survive.” Victor wistfully smiled. He kissed Yuuri’s cheek.

“We need to talk, though.”

“I’m not sure about what, though,” Yuuri said.

“Khoudia can brief you,” Victor said. Khoudia’s eyes shot up from her phone. “And when you come to your decision, let me know.”

“I thought I told you that I wasn’t going to the banquet,” Yuuri said.

“Has nothing to do with the banquet,” Victor said. “As I said, Khoudia can brief you. I have to get ready for breakfast now.” Yuuri grimaced. “I’ll see you later. 10:30am.”

“10:30am,” Yuuri repeated. Victor kissed Yuuri one last time and left. Yuuri looked back at Khoudia – she had her face covered. “Are you okay?”

“I _stan_ this relationship,” Khoudia said. “Now get dressed. We have to eat breakfast.” Yuuri nodded and looked at the clothes Victor picked out for Yuuri. It was all black and no floral. Yuuri sighed. “Would you prefer to be briefed about what Victor and I discussed now or later?”

“Well, I don’t know how long breakfast is going to be, nor do I know what Mama Awa is going to lambast us for today, so I’ll take it now,” Yuuri said.

“Victor wants to come with us to the doctor to see what’s wrong with you, but I told him I couldn’t invite him without permission from you,” Khoudia said. “And he kind of knows about your,” Khoudia coughed, “your ‘condition,’ but I said that I wouldn’t tell him if you hadn’t told him or told me I could tell him. So he’s a little bit bitter that you have a condition, but never told him about it.”

“For good reason. It’s none of his business.”

“It kind of _is_ , though,” Khoudia said. “He _is_ your boyfriend.”

“He doesn’t need to know.” Khoudia sighed. “Don’t sigh at me,” Yuuri said as they put on deodorant and their turtleneck. “It’s none of his business what my health is looking like. There’s only one exception.”

“And that exception would be?”

“If it were contractable through sex or fluid sharing I would be _compelled_ to tell him to reduce risk of transmission and give him the option of whether or not he would be comfortable being amorous with someone who has a contractable illness. But I don’t. So I’m not going to tell him.”

“But he wants to _support_ you through this,” Khoudia urged. “I don’t think you’re comprehending that. He wants to be with you when you go to the doctor to make sure you’re okay.”

“Mama Awa is going to make sure I’m okay,” Yuuri said.

“Yes, but that’s your _boyfriend_ ,” Khoudia enunciated. “I don’t think you’re grasping that bit.”

“We officially started dating a month ago. My health is none of his business.”

“But he loves you,” Khoudia said. “Let him support you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Yuuri said as they pulled up their pants. “I’ll tell him on my own time. I’m not just going to let him into everything in one swoop. It’ll give him whiplash, and it’s super stressful to have all of that on your shoulders.” Yuuri zipped their pants and stretched. They walked to the door and grabbed their Timbs since they were apparently going for the sick goth kid look. “Shouldn’t we get going soon, anyway?”

“Depends. Let me call my dad.” Khoudia unlocked her phone. She called her father and put him on speaker. “Daddy!” Khoudia said.

“ _What? Where are you?_ ”

“ _I’m with Yuuri. Is Mama ready yet?_ ” Yuuri inhaled again. 

“ _No. Your mother is still doing her hair._ ”

“Still?” Khoudia asked. “ _What could she possibly be doing to it? She’s just going to be wearing a hijab over it._ ”

“ _I know, but don’t question your mother._ ” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “ _Is Yuuri ready yet?_ ”

“ _Yes, Daddy. We’re waiting for y’all._ ” Khoudia looked at her nails. She was thinking about changing them. Again. “ _Does it look like Mama’s almost done?_ ”

“ _I don’t know. Let me ask her._ ” There was silence. “ _Ma coccinelles_ , _are you done with your hair?_ ”

“ _Do I **look** done, Moumou?_” Mama Awa said. Khoudia laughed madly.

“ _Your mother is **not** done with her hair,_” Mouhamadou said. “ _I’ll call you when she’s done, okay?_ ”

“ _Yes, Daddy. Love you, Daddy,_ ” Khoudia said.

“ _I love you too, ma princesse,_ ” Mouhamadou said. Khoudia’s father hung up. Khoudia put down her phone.

“Mama isn’t done doing her hair yet,” Khoudia said. “So, what do you want to do in the meantime?” Yuuri shrugged and inhaled. “Oh, have you noticed how Elizabeth and Sophia haven’t talked to us at all while we’ve been here?” Khoudia asked.

“I hadn’t noticed. Any theories why?” Yuuri asked.

“I don’t know,” Khoudia said. “Do you think it’s because I told them to get their heads out of their asses in Moscow? Or was it because I threw a fit over Sophia thinking my name is too difficult?” Yuuri shrugged. “Are you even paying attention?”

“I am,” Yuuri said.

"Can you just get your face out of Victor's pillow?" Yuuri rolled their eyes and turned on their back. "Thank you." Yuuri gave Khoudia a thumbs up. "Now, as for why neither of them have talked to us is anyone's guess, but I just know that they haven't made any moves to interact with us while we're here."

"Maybe they expect us to make moves and talk to them." Khoudia laughed. "I'm serious. What if they want us to seek them out?"

“And what if they dub us? I am not in the mood to be dubbed.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “What do we do?” Khoudia asked.

“I don’t know; I don’t do the social thing,” Yuuri said. “I guess we could text Sophia.”

“You have Sophia’s number. You’ll have to text her.” Yuuri sucked their teeth. “You text Sophia. I’ll text Elizabeth.” Yuuri reached for their phone and unlocked it. They had texts from Olivia.

Olivia: Didn’t you just ask me to dinner thou?

Yuuri rolled their eyes and looked at her text.

: I did, but something came up.

Olivia: Like what?

: Suffering, mostly.

Olivia: Be serious.

: I am. I will be suffering at the time I asked you to dinner so I can’t go to dinner.

Yuuri rolled their eyes. “What? Did Sophia text you?”

“Oh, no. It’s just Olivia.” Khoudia sucked her teeth. She got up and plopped on the bed.

“What’s this bitch saying?” Khoudia took Yuuri’s phone out of their hands and scrolled up. She immediately started rolling her eyes. “You were going to go out with her again?!”

“I was going to, but now I don’t want to.” Yuuri laughed. Khoudia continued scrolling. “What do you mean by making things right? What did you do?” Yuuri remained silent. “This is not the police. Remaining silent does you no good.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Now spill. What did you do to Victor? Do I have to murder you?”

“It’s not so much what I did but what I was _about_ to do.” Khoudia nodded. Yuuri bit their lip and twisted up their face. “Twice.” Khoudia made a face.

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to snoop, and you won't like it when I snoop." Yuuri shrugged. "So, tell me." Yuuri took their phone back from Khoudia and went to notes. They wrote down what they wanted to say. When Khoudia read what Yuuri had written, she flicked their arm.

“I deserve that.”

"You can't tell him that," Khoudia said. Yuuri was shocked. Khoudia is, a good majority of the time, a sincere, straightforward person. And the fact that Khoudia was flat out telling Yuuri _not_ to tell Victor something crucial was genuinely mind-boggling. "I know that you want to be honest with Victor, but you actually cannot tell him that. It might set him off, and he might murder you." Yuuri deadpanned. 

“He won’t murder me.”

"The hot ones are also crazy ones, and Victor might snap." Yuuri rolled their eyes. "If I found out someone I was head over heels for was a hoe and almost cheated on me twice, I'd go for blood. Their blood. No one involved is leaving unscathed."

“Okay, but you’re hot _and_ crazy.”

“Did you just call me hot?” Khoudia asked. She smiled; Yuuri nodded. “That’s sweet. Thank you.” Khoudia looked at the message again. “Are you also implying that Victor is not hot?” Yuuri deadpanned.

"Have you seen my boyfriend?" Yuuri asked. "I need to know if we see the same thing." Khoudia shrugged. "Because Victor is highly attractive. I don't understand how it's humanly possible to be so beautiful." Khoudia snickered. "Shut up. Now, as I was saying, I doubt Victor would murder me." Yuuri put their phone to sleep. "But, in the off chance he does, I'd say it's well deserved."

“I mean, _yeah,_ it's well deserved; I want to murder you right now for that. But don't tell him that. But also don't break up with him." Yuuri furrowed their brows. "Breaking up with him _won’t_ be making it right. You'll just make him wonder what went wrong and cause him to blame himself – which is what we _don’t_ want. The best thing to do is to do nothing at all.” Yuuri made a face.

“But this guilt is eating me alive.”

“I know,” Khoudia said. “And you’ll have to live with that guilt forever. But you bet not break that baby’s heart.” Yuuri sighed.

“I don’t know what you want me to do here,” Yuuri said.

“I just told you: Live with your guilt. If you can live with bombing the Grand Prix, you can live with being a hoe.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Just don’t break Victor’s heart. He doesn’t deserve that.”

"He also doesn't deserve someone inconsistent. He needs consistency, and I am not good at giving it to him." Yuuri laid their head in Khoudia's lap. "He deserves – and can do – so much better."

“But he wants _you_ ,” Khoudia said. “The way he looks at you is so precious. He only has eyes for you.” Yuuri shrugged. “Are you blind or just dumb?”

“Both,” Yuuri said. Khoudia rolled her eyes. “I _guess_ he has eyes for me, but I don't know. He could do better." 

“If you think he could do better, don’t you think he wouldn’t have already _done_ better?" Khoudia asked. Yuuri shrugged. "He only wants you. So give him what he wants."

"How do I give him what he wants when I don't know what I want?"

“You know what you want,” Khoudia said. “We _all_ know what you want.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and shrugged. “Can’t you tell?” Yuuri shrugged again. “Yuuri, you want Victor, but your other feelings are clouding your judgment.”

“I guess,” Yuuri murmured. “I mean, I know I want Victor, but I guess what you’re saying is right.”

“I know I’m right,” Khoudia said. Her phone started to buzz. “Oh, it’s Daddy.” Khoudia answered her phone. “ _Yes, Daddy?_ ” Yuuri looked up at Khoudia and touched her chin. She smiled. “ _Okay, we’ll go downstairs now._ ” Khoudia ended the call. “Mama’s done with her hair.” Yuuri groaned. They forced themselves up and grabbed their phone. Khoudia grabbed her coat and tossed Yuuri Theirs. Yuuri put on their coat and grabbed their phone and wallet. They had a text from Victor.

> Victor: I miss you already
> 
> : I miss you, too.

Khoudia opened the door, and Yuuri followed her out. "So, what have we learned today?" Khoudia asked as she started walking to the elevator. Yuuri remained silent. "I'm asking you what you've learned today."

“Oh!” Yuuri yelped. “Well, I’ve learned that I shouldn’t tell my boyfriend what I’ve done and that I shouldn’t break up with him.” Khoudia nodded. “And that I want him, but I’m allowing my other feelings to cloud my feelings for him.” Khoudia nodded. “And that my baby wants me, but I won’t let him have me.” Khoudia nodded.

“One more thing,” Khoudia said.

“Um, fuck Olivia?”

"Ding ding ding!" Khoudia clapped. "You got it all!" They made it to the elevator. Khoudia pushed the down button. "You need to work on your communication skills. I feel like that's one of the best ways to make yourself vulnerable for Victor."

“I am averse to the idea of being vulnerable to anyone.”

“But your relationship literally depends on you surrendering yourself. You _need_ to be able to surrender yourself to make this work.” Yuuri remained silent. “This is for you and him.”

“I guess,” Yuuri murmured. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“How many times must I tell you that I told you what to do?”

“I know, but I’m still thinking.” The elevator came. Yuuri pushed the button for the ground floor. “I want to be honest with him. He deserves that at least. Shouldn’t surrendering myself entail me being honest?”

“It does. Just not about that. Be honest with him about how you hate going to doctors and how you like leaving marks on people because you accidentally get erections from doing Judo or whatever, but just don’t tell him the other thing.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Trust me. It’s for the best.”

"I guess," Yuuri said. The elevator stopped on the first floor. Mama Awa and Mouhamadou weren't anywhere to be seen. "Did we get here before your parents again?" Khoudia nodded. She took a seat across from the front desk, and Yuuri sat next to her. "When do you think your mom will want me to stop calling her ‘Mama Awa'?"

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“When she finds out you’re queer,” Khoudia said. She leaned on Yuuri’s arm.

“She wouldn’t cut ties with me because of that,” Yuuri said, disbelieving.

"Yes, she would. That's my mother, and I know my mother," Khoudia said. "It's absurd, but you would really stop being her hummingbird over this."

“I don’t want to stop being her hummingbird. I love your mother.”

“I know you do, but those are the conditions.” Yuuri sighed. “It’s fucked.” They kissed Khoudia’s temple. “What was that for?”

“Ma petite sirène,” Yuuri said. Khoudia smiled. “Victor said that I love you more than him.”

“You have to show him that that’s not true.”

“How do I show him that?” Yuuri asked. “He also said that he doesn’t feel important to me. How do I show him that he’s important to me?”

“What do you do to show Phichit that you love him when he’s sad?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri made a face; they didn’t see where Khoudia was going with this.

“I listen to Jay Park and Beyoncé with him. I dance with him. I cook for him. I pat his head and tell him how precious he is to me.”

“Do that with Victor,” Khoudia said.

“…You want me to listen to Jay Park and Beyoncé with Victor?” Yuuri asked.

“Not necessarily. Unless Victor likes Jay Park and Beyoncé because then yes, do that. But do the spirit of those things. Do things Victor likes. Cook for him. Be affectionate.”

“Affectionate how?” Khoudia looked at Yuuri and deadpanned. “Is there more affection that I should be doing?”

“Find out how he likes to be touched – both sexually and non-sexually – and do that. But make it special and light.” Yuuri nodded.

“What if Victor doesn’t care how I touch him as long as I touch him?”

“Then that’s good, too,” Khoudia said. “But still find out and put it into practice.” Khoudia yawned. “Also, a good rule of thumb is to touch him like you touch me.” Yuuri nodded. “You know how you sweetly grab my face? You do that to him. Call him something cute, too.”

“I already call him ‘my happiness.’ What else do I say?”

“Your ‘happiness’ is a good start but find out if he has a nickname that he’s fond of and maybe start calling him that.” Yuuri nodded again. They looked over at the elevators. Mama Awa and Mouhamadou were on this elevator. Mama Awa ran away from her husband and knelt in front of Yuuri. She was smiling.

“My hummingbird, are you better today?” Yuuri shrugged. “You have a little bit of color in your face again.” Yuuri nodded. Mouhamadou approached them and sat next to his daughter. They started talking about something. “Now, let’s all go to breakfast!” Mama Awa grinned. Yuuri looked over at Khoudia, who was still talking to her father. “Didn’t you two hear me? Let’s go eat breakfast!” Mama Awa said to Khoudia and Mouhamadou; they kept talking. She deadpanned and looked at Yuuri.

“Should we just leave?” Yuuri asked Mama Awa.

“Let’s leave,” Mama Awa said. Yuuri nodded and got up and started to follow Mama Awa out of the hotel. Khoudia and Mouhamadou didn’t notice that they were gone until Mama Awa and Yuuri reached the corner. “So, hummingbird, how is your girlfriend?” Yuuri was looking at their phone when Mama Awa asked.

“She’s fine.”

“Does she know that you are a skater?” Yuuri nodded. “Did she see you skate on Friday and Saturday?” Yuuri nodded. “And? What does she think?” Mama Awa smiled.

“She thinks I should go to the doctor, too,” Yuuri said. Mama Awa made a face. “She had asked if I was sick and implored me to go. So I guess I’ll go to conciliate her.”

“Conciliate?”

“Placate, satisfy, soothe,” Yuuri said. Mama Awa nodded.

"It is good that you are willing to go to the doctor, so your girlfriend is appeased," Mama Awa said. "It is rather sad that you would go because she told you rather than because _I_ – your mother – want you to, but I am just glad that you are going.” Mama Awa stood on her toes to kiss Yuuri’s forehead. “Bend down! I’m small!” Yuuri chuckled and crouched down so Mama Awa could kiss Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri stood up straight again. “So when is the wedding?” Yuuri made a face.

“What wedding?”

“The one between you and your girlfriend,” Mama Awa said.

“Mama, it’s only been a few months.”

“I know,” she cajoled, “but when is the wedding?! Do you have a timespan in mind? What does she think about marriage? Do you want to have children?” Yuuri chuckled. “Come on now, tell your mother.”

"Well, it's only been a few months, and I haven't had that conversation with her yet. It feels like it's too soon to have it."

“It is never too soon to have conversations about marriage,” Mama Awa said. “You don’t want to waste your time with someone who is otherwise perfect only to find out that they aren’t interested in something permanent.”

"I'm just dating to see what's out there, you know?" Yuuri said. "Get an idea of what I want and don't want out of a relationship. I'm young; I have time to decide if I want to get married."

"You sound like Kiki," Mama Awa said. "She is not interested in getting married right now. You know, her older sisters are currently engaged. It was challenging finding fiancés for Adeola and Fatou. They're picky."

“And Kiki’s even pickier.” Mama Awa laughed. “Right?”

“Yes, Kiki is very picky. I don't know what Moumou and I are going to do with her.”

“She’s picky, but I’m sure that she would make someone a lovely wife,” Yuuri remarked. “Your daughter is sweet and caring – in her unique way, of course – and anyone would be lucky to have someone like her by their side.” Mama Awa nodded and smiled.

“But back to you,” Mama Awa said. “Do you have an inkling about whether or not you want to marry this girl?”

“I wouldn’t mind being with them forever,” Yuuri said.

"Well, you find out, and you tell me." Yuuri smiled. "And don't forget to invite all of us to the wedding." Yuuri laughed.

“I will be sure to invite the entirety of the Bâ-Sène family to my future wedding.” Yuuri laughed.

“Good! I look forward to being there!” Yuuri hugged Mama Awa and smiled. She was going to be very disappointed when she finds out about Victor, but Yuuri decided that it would be best to let her live. “My eldest boy,” she said, still holding on to Yuuri. “I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mama Awa,” Yuuri said. They smiled. Mama Awa knew how to make them feel loved. She wasn’t their mother – well, she _was_ in a way – but she loved Yuuri like they were. Yuuri fixed one of the pins on her hijab.

“Thank you, hummingbird,” she said. “What about children? Do you want to have children?” Yuuri felt like it would be right to bring up Adé, but that would be more complex and damning than anything, so Yuuri settled for something simple.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. “I’m open to the possibility of having them in the future.” Mama Awa smiled.

“Good. Have children.” Yuuri sheepishly smiled. “I do not think Kiki wants children, to be honest. It makes me sad that my favorite daughter does not want to give us grandchildren.”

“Your favorite daughter?” Yuuri asked. This is news to them; according to Khoudia, it would make more sense that any one of Khoudia’s other sisters would be the favorite.

"Yes. I cannot speak for Moumou, but Kiki is my favorite." Yuuri nodded. "She's in college!" Mama Awa squealed. "She's studying an actual field! I've dreamed of going to college when I was younger, but I was never able to. But Kiki – Kiki's studying music! I do not know _why_ music, but she's going for longer than two years!" Mama Awa grabbed Yuuri's face. "Don't you know that I would have sacrificed both of my pinky toes just to go to college for how long Kiki's been going?" Mama Awa sighed happily. "And she's so accomplished, too. She did ballet when she was younger, you know." Yuuri nodded. "And now she's a figure skater. My middle daughter is a figure skater and a musician. People back in Senegal and at the mosque think it's weird – we do not have ice rinks in Dakar – but I am so proud of Kiki." Yuuri smiled. "I love all of my daughters, and I am proud of all of them, but none of them make my heart swell like Kiki." 

“That’s really sweet.”

“Are your parents proud of you?” Mama Awa asked.

“My mother tells me that she’s proud of me, but sometimes I don’t feel it.”

“I am sure your mother is proud of you,” Mama Awa said. “You are smart and multi-talented and very handsome. She _has_ to be proud of you.”

"I am not very attractive by Japanese standards, Mama Awa," Yuuri said. "I am not attractive, and my girlfriend has low standards."

“I do not know much about Japan, but you are handsome. Do not shortchange yourself. I am certain that your girlfriend thinks you are handsome, too.” Yuuri shrugged. Mama Awa swatted their shoulders. “Do not hump your shoulders.”

“Yes, Mama. Sorry, Mama.”

“Crouch down,” Mama Awa said. Yuuri did as Mama Awa said. She kissed their forehead again. “I love you very much, hummingbird.” Yuuri smiled.

“I love you, too, Mama Awa.”

“Hey!” Khoudia yelled. Mama Awa let go of Yuuri and looked at her daughter. “Why’d you two leave?” Khoudia approached her mom and stood by her side. Mouhamadou was still walking.

"I told you and your father that it was time for breakfast, and neither of you heard me, so Yuuri and I decided to leave." Khoudia side-eyed Yuuri. "Do not look at Yuuri like that. At least he heard me."

“You were talking directly to them. Of course, they’d hear you, Mama.” Khoudia looked up at Yuuri’s forehead. “Why is there lipstick on your forehead?”

“Mama Awa kissed my forehead a few times.” Khoudia nodded. She leaned on her mother and looked in the direction of her father. Mouhamadou finally reached his family. And, from there, they all walked to the café.

So the family reached the café and sat. Mama Awa already decided on what Yuuri was getting: tea and a plain croissant. Yuuri didn’t want to argue; instead, they allowed Mama Awa to order for them. The door opened again, and the new café patrons brought in a gust of cold air. Yuuri looked up; it was Victor, Chris, and Yuri. Victor fixed his eyes on Yuuri. When he walked past, he put his hand on their shoulder.

“Yes?” Yuuri murmured.

“There’s lipstick on your forehead,” Victor said.

“Thank you,” Yuuri murmured.

“Do you need me to get it off?” Victor asked.

“I can do that,” Khoudia said. She grabbed a napkin and turned Yuuri towards her. She dampened the napkin and started to wipe it off. “Thank you for telling us.”

"It's no problem." Victor smiled. He hesitated to let go of Yuuri's shoulder, but he did, eventually and unwillingly. Yuuri inwardly smiled but had to maintain their calm.

“Who was that?” Mama Awa whispered. “Have we seen him before? Do you know him?”

“Mama, that was Victor Nikiforov. He’s the Grand Prix gold medalist in Yuuri’s section,” Khoudia whispered.

“Oh!” Mama Awa said. “Hummingbird, why don’t you go talk to him?”

“He’s with his people,” Yuuri murmured. “I’ll leave him alone.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed twice. They looked at their notifications.

Victor: Don’t leave me alone.

Victor: I know we can’t be open right here right now, but don’t leave me alone.

“You should talk to him, though! Be cordial with the Grand Prix gold medalist!” Yuuri made a face of horror.

“Wh-what do I say to him?” Yuuri asked, trying to hide the horror in their voice. They never thought that they would be _encouraged_ to talk to Victor in public by Mama Awa.

“Start with ‘hi,’” Mama Awa said. “Congratulate him on his win. Ask him about things.” Yuuri took a deep breath. “Do it, hummingbird!”

“Yeah, hummingbird,” Khoudia said, “do it.” Khoudia nudged them and winked; she snickered. Yuuri rolled their eyes and sighed. “If you don’t do it, I’m going to laugh at you forever and ever.”

“Kiki, stop being rude,” Mama Awa said. “But hummingbird, you should do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!” She smiled. Yuuri took a deep breath and got up. They didn’t have a far distance to walk to get to Victor’s table. Yuuri took a deep breath and put their hands in their pockets.

“Hello,” Yuuri murmured.

“Hi,” Victor said, smiling. Chris winked at Yuuri. Yuri was on their phone, ignoring everyone.

“Congratulations on your fifth gold medal.”

“Thank you,” Victor said. “Congratulations on your sixth place.” Yuuri deadpanned. Victor smiled and winked; Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Are you going to the banquet tonight, Yuuri?” Yuri looked up from their phone and looked at Yuuri. He made a face.

“I don’t know.”

“You should go. I’ll be there.” Yuri grimaced.

“Yeah, I know,” Yuuri murmured. “Of course, you’ll be there.”

“I mean, _yeah_ ,” Victor said. “I have to be there.”

“Plus, you did extremely well at the Grand Prix,” Yuuri said. “You deserve to be there.”

“And so do you,” Victor said. “So, will I see you at the banquet?”

“Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“Please do consider. I would like to see you there.” Yuuri looked over at Yuri; he was still making that face. Victor smiled.

“Like I said, I’ll think about it.” Victor smiled harder. “I’ll sit down now. It was nice to see you.”

“It was nice to see you, too, Yuuri,” Victor said. Yuuri returned to their seat and looked at their hands. Khoudia nudged them and snickered.

“So? Was that so bad, hummingbird?” Mama Awa asked. She was smiling.

"It wasn't too painful," Yuuri murmured. "Victor Nikiforov is really nice." Mama Awa smiled.

“So, there’s a banquet?” Mouhamadou asked, finally speaking up. He put his phone down and looked at Khoudia. He folded his hands on the table. “Kiki, why didn’t you tell us about the banquet?”

“It’s only for the skaters and the coaches,” Khoudia said.

“So? I would have liked to know about this banquet.” Khoudia shrugged. “Bring us something to eat back from the banquet.”

“I’ll do my best to do so, Daddy,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at their phone again. They had more texts from Victor.

> Victor: I’m glad that Mama Awa encouraged you to talk to me in a public place.
> 
> Victor: It was very awkward, but it was something!!!
> 
> Victor: Also, you should go to the banquet. I’d like to see you looking all hot in a suit in person.
> 
> : As I said, I’ll think about it.
> 
> Victor: We’ll talk more about this later.
> 
> Victor: And another thing
> 
> : Shoot
> 
> Victor: I’m going to put on lipstick later and kiss your face all over.
> 
> Victor: Since you’re content with walking around with smudged lipstick on your forehead.
> 
> : ((eye roll emoji))

“Mama, what are you doing after breakfast?” Khoudia asked. Mama Awa looked up from her breakfast. “Yuuri’s going to head back to the hotel to get some rest. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to see my father’s daughter.” Yuuri made a confused face. “Oh, hummingbird, let me explain.” Yuuri nodded. “My father was married twice. My elder sister lives in Marseille.” Yuuri nodded. “Did Kiki tell you about A’aisha?”

“No?”

“Well, A’aisha is one of my nieces. She is Omaira’s daughter.”

“Is Omaira’s mom Ivorian?” Khoudia asked. Mama Awa nodded. “That explains _everything_.” Khoudia took a bite of her croissant. “But why is this the first time I’m hearing about Auntie Omaira?”

“I do not talk about my father’s first wife’s children much,” Mama Awa said. “Adeola and Fatou know about them, though. They are very close to your Uncle Talhah.” Khoudia nodded, amazed by this revelation. She took a bite of her _pain au raisin_. "That is not to say that I _do not_ love my elder siblings, but I do not talk about them much. We are not terribly close." 

“I might come to see Auntie Omaira with you,” Khoudia said. Mama Awa smiled. “Will any of your other siblings be there?”

“Maybe Samirah and Kadidiatou. They live nearby, too.” Mama Awa sighed. “I do not remember where Zayd, Sidqi, Uthman, Ubaydullah, and Zafarullah live. They either live in Abidjan or Paris.” Khoudia nodded.

“Why do we have big families?”

“Because children are our blessings. You are a blessing whom people love and on whom they pin their hopes,” Mouhamadou said. “Back home, we are considered to be a small family.”

“…You have seven kids,” Yuuri pointed out.

"I know," Mouhamadou said. "We are small but lovely."

“Are y’all, like, done having kids?” Yuuri asked. They bit their tongue at their brazenness, but it was a question that’s come up in Yuuri’s head time and time again. They see Khoudia’s large and happy family, and they wonder if it could get any bigger. 

“Maybe. It depends on if we are blessed with another one,” Mama Awa said. Khoudia spat out her hot chocolate. “Are you okay, Kiki?”

“Don’t have another baby,” Khoudia said.

“We cannot control it if we have another one.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. She wanted to say something about how birth control and condoms exist – and how condoms are practically free – but she held herself back. She’s “not supposed to know about condoms and birth control.” “I would like another baby,” Mama Awa wistfully said. Mouhamadou looked up and at his wife.

“Please, no more babies,” Khoudia said. “I don’t know what I’d do with another sister.”

“Just another son then,” Mama Awa said.

“We already have Amadou and Malik,” Mouhamadou reminded Mama Awa. Even _he_ was averse to the thought of having more children.

"Just another son," Mama Awa repeated. "We can name him Hakim." Mama Awa smiled. "He can smell like baby lotion and baby powder, and we can dress him up all cute." Mama Awa took a sip of her coffee. "And you, Adeola, and Fatou can help me take care of him. You three need to learn how to take care of a baby before you have your own." Mama Awa looked at Yuuri. They were picking the flakes off of their croissant. “And you can learn, too, Yuuri.” Yuuri stopped picking at their croissant and looked at Mama Awa.

“Why me?” Yuuri asked.

“You need to learn how to take care of a baby, too.”

“Taking care of babies isn’t hard,” Khoudia said. “All you have to do is feed it daily and remember to clean the tank occasionally.”

"Kiki, taking care of a human baby is much different than taking care of a fish," Mama Awa said. "There is a lot that goes into childrearing, and it is very evident that you have no clue what you're talking about."

“You’re right. I _don’t_ have a clue on what I’m talking about. I’m not even planning on having children.” Mama Awa deadpanned. “What? I don’t want kids. Don’t expect grandkids from me.”

“I want grandkids from all of my children. So you are having children.” Khoudia rolled her eyes. “Do not roll your eyes at me, Khoudia.”

“Yes, Mama. Sorry, Mama,” Khoudia murmured. She started to wipe up the hot chocolate she spat out. “I’m still not getting pregnant, though.”

“You will change your mind,” Mama Awa plainly said. She looked at Yuuri again. “Stop playing with your croissant, hummingbird. You have not even had a bite.” Yuuri tore off a piece of their croissant and put it in their mouth. “Good, now eat more. You look sick.” The only thought that came to Yuuri’s mind was “good.” But Yuuri slowly ate their croissant under Mama Awa’s maternal gaze. It was like being home with Phichit all over again.

#

**(Sunday, 13 December 2015 – 10:45am** **, Marseille, France)**

Breakfast was pretty okay. Mama Awa was satisfied by Yuuri eating their whole croissant and drinking most of their tea. She and Khoudia dropped Yuuri off at the hotel, and Yuuri went up to their room. They laid on their bed and closed their eyes. Victor hadn’t texted them his whereabouts and where they’re going to be meeting. So Yuuri laid in Victor’s spot and waited for their phone to go off.

And, sure enough, it did. Yuuri reached for their phone and picked up. “Yes?”

“Just calling you to check-in,” Mama Awa said. Yuuri smiled. Their phone buzzed. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Mama Awa. I’m in bed relaxing.”

“Good. Any vomiting?”

“No, Mama Awa,” Yuuri said.

“Good. Call me if you need me.”

“I will, Mama Awa,” Yuuri said. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, _mon colibri_.” She ended the call. Yuuri looked at their notifications. Sure enough, it was Victor.

> Victor: Where are you? I’m downstairs.
> 
> : I’m upstairs. Do you want me to come down?
> 
> Victor: That would be nice, love.

Yuuri got up and fixed their clothes. They grabbed their coat and put it on. Then they grabbed their phone and their glasses and stood at the door. They brought their fingers to their peripheral vision and started to wiggle them. They were thinking about if they needed something else. Yuuri began to murmur "something else" like they were a broken record. Their phone buzzed again.

> Victor: Actually, I’ll come up to get you.

Yuuri looked at the text and put their phone back. They resumed stimming and looking around. They don’t think that there’s anything else that they’d need, but they still wanted to be sure.

Yuuri was standing there for about four minutes. And, within those four minutes, Victor was standing on the other side of the door, knocking. “Yuuri,” Victor said. “It’s me.” Yuuri opened the door and turned back around. Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist and looked at Yuuri stim. “What are you doing?” He briefly let go to close the door behind him.

“I’m thinking,” Yuuri murmured. Victor kissed Yuuri’s cheek.

“Thinking about what?”

“‘Do I have everything I need?’”

“Do you have your phone? Your glasses?” Yuuri nodded. “Do you want to bring your sketchbook? Do you want to draw?” Yuuri shrugged. “Well, let’s bring your sketchbook and art supplies just in case, okay?” Yuuri nodded. They went to their suitcase and carry-on bag for their bag and art things. Yuuri shoveled it all in their bag and returned to Victor’s arms. “Now, what else do you need?” Victor said. Yuuri shrugged and continued to stim. Victor put their hands in Yuuri’s pockets and felt tissues and receipts. They took out the receipts and tissues and looked at them.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asked.

"Cleaning your pockets. There's so much junk in them." Yuuri shrugged and continued stimming. Victor went back in Yuuri's pockets. He felt change in them; he left that alone but took out Yuuri's Vaseline. He uncapped their Vaseline tin and applied some on his lips. Then Victor stood in front of Yuuri.

“What are you doing now?”

“Putting some Vaseline on your lips. They look chapped.” Victor applied the Vaseline to Yuuri’s lips and kissed them. “Much better.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. They continued stimming.

“Do you have your hat?” Yuuri touched the top of their head. They shook their head. Victor went over to the bed and gave it to Yuuri. “Here you go.” Yuuri put on their hat and leaned into Victor. “What else do you need?”

“I think that’s it,” Yuuri murmured. Then they remembered their Xanax. “Actually, no, that’s _not_ it.” Yuuri broke free from Victor’s arms and knelt in front of their Zuca. They took out their bottle of Xanax and put it in the small pouch of their bag. They didn’t know if they’d need it, but they would have it in case they do. Yuuri got up and stood in front of Victor. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good. Now let’s go!” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand and opened the door. They walked hand in hand to the elevator. Victor was grinning from ear to ear; Yuuri looked at him and smiled. “I can’t believe we’re going to go to a museum here! Together!!” Yuuri kissed Victor’s cheek and smiled.

“It’s going to be great,” Yuuri said.

"It is!" Victor gushed. "We're going to go to the museum and the Old Port, and it's going to be a lovely date with my lovely boyfriend!" Victor kissed Yuuri and smiled. He looked so excited to be going out with Yuuri, and that made Yuuri smile. "Oh, wait!" Victor said. He reached into Yuuri's pocket and took out their glasses. He gently placed them on Yuuri’s face. Victor kissed Yuuri again. “The face that I love.” Yuuri kissed their boyfriend and leaned on him. The elevator came; they got on, and Victor pressed the button for the ground floor. Then Yuuri remembered what Khoudia wanted them to ask Victor.

“Oh!” Yuuri said. Victor looked down at them. “Do you have a nickname you like to be called?” Victor made a face.

“Not really,” Victor said. “Why?”

"I want to call you something, and I want to know if there's a nickname you'd like to be called." Victor nodded.

"Just call me ‘yours,' and I'll be fine forever." Yuuri nodded and kissed him. They kept their face by Victor’s. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

"Say I'm yours," Victor whispered. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Yuuri immediately pulled away. They took deep breaths and kept their eyes focused on the buttons. Victor sighed and tried to refocus himself. A hetero couple stepped on the elevator, holding hands and giggling wildly. Victor looked over at them and sighed wistfully. He put his arm around Yuuri's shoulder, and Yuuri looked up at him. Victor smiled and took out his phone. 

> Victor: That’s going to be us when we get home.

Victor gestured for Yuuri to check their phone; Yuuri did as Victor signaled and looked. He smiled.

> : I’d hope that’d be us when we get home.

The elevator stopped on the first floor, and everyone got off. Victor removed his arm from his Yuuri's shoulders and grabbed their hand. “Do you think we’ll run into Jean today?” Yuuri asked.

“I’d hope not,” Victor said.

“Hey! Victor!” Victor cursed under his breath and turned around. It was Jean-Jacques and Isabella again. Yuuri loosened their grip on Victor’s hand, but Victor wouldn’t let go. “You’re with the new skater again,” Jean said. Victor nodded and smiled. Yuuri looked over at Isabella; she was busy looking pretty again. She had on a dark purple lipstick today. “Where are you two going today?”

“We’re going to a museum.”

“That’s nice,” Jean-Jacques said. “Isabella and I are going to the park.” Yuuri nodded.

“Are you Asian, too?” Isabella asked Yuuri; her voice was sweet and gentle. Yuuri nodded. “What are you? I’m Gaoshan. My mother is from Taiwan.”

“I'm Japanese,” Yuuri said. Isabella nodded. “You look really pretty with purple lipstick.” Isabella smiled toothily. Her teeth were a little bit crooked, but it was cute. Her smile was adorable, too.

“Thank you!!” Isabella said. “I hope you have a nice date at the museum.” Yuuri blushed.

“Th-thank you,” Yuuri said.

“Well, we should get going,” Victor said. “It was nice seeing you two.”

“And it was very nice seeing you two, too,” Jean-Jacques said. “Have a nice date at the museum!” Victor made a face but smiled anyway.

“We will,” Yuuri said. They walked away and didn’t speak until they were at the corner. “Isabella seems nice.” Victor nodded. “She’s really pretty, too.”

“She is,” Victor said.

"Do you think that it'll be a problem?" Yuuri asked. Victor looked down at Yuuri. "I mean, they called our outing a date, and you wouldn't let go of my hand when Jean stopped us. They probably think we're together."

“ _Aren’t_ we together?” Victor asked.

“We _are_ , but I’m trying to save your back here.”

“Save my back from what? They think we’re together and we’re going on a date. I don’t see a problem.” Yuuri sighed.

“But there _is_ a problem!” Yuuri started walking; they pulled Victor along. “You’re with me.”

“That’s not a problem,” Victor said. “I love being with you.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Then explain it.”

“You’re with _me_.” Victor nodded. “A male-bodied person. You are holding hands with me.” Victor nodded again. “Two people plainly said that you are going on a date with me. They know; they can tell.”

“And I don’t care,” Victor said. “If people talk about us, they will talk.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. "Plus, it's not like they have any proof that I'm holding your hand, and we're going on a date." Yuuri sighed. "The most they can say is that they ran into us, and we're going to a museum." Yuuri sighed again. "Nothing bad will happen; I won't let anything bad happen to us." Yuuri remained silent. Victor wasn't getting what Yuuri was trying to convey, or he _was_ getting it, and he was being willfully obtuse. Yuuri couldn't see why Victor would be willfully imperceptive about something so serious, but Yuuri just wanted to forget this, get to the museum, and look at some art with their love.

But no. They had to worry about what other people would say and how this would impact both of their careers.

#

**(Sunday, 13 December 2015 – 2:15pm, Marseille, France)**

Yuuri and Victor were at La Samaritaine. They had gone to the Old Port earlier, and it was so peaceful to listen to the waves with their happiness. Victor had remarked that the Old Port is lovely at night. Yuuri had wanted to come back to the Old Port to see it looking pretty, but Victor reminded them that they have to attend the banquet. Yuuri flat out said that they weren’t going to go, but Victor insisted on it, trying to appeal to their basal senses. Yuuri rolled their eyes and mentally recited sutras to resist, but, in the end, they said that they would consider it. They’d been considering it since they were on the plane, but they hadn’t come to a complete decision.

> Khoudia: I ran into Ciao Ciao, and I told him that you don't want to go to the banquet
> 
> Khoudia: So now he wants to talk to you
> 
> : Is he going to call?
> 
> Khoudia: Maybe??
> 
> Khoudia: If he calls, be sure to pick up, ma raison
> 
> : I’ll think about it.
> 
> Khoudia: ((eye roll emoji))

“Who was it?” Victor asked as he sipped at his wine.

"Khoudia." Victor nodded. "She told Ciao Ciao that I don't want to go to the banquet."

“And?”

“He might call me to chastise me. I don’t know when, but he might.” Victor nodded. He took another sip of wine. “But, until then, I won’t worry about it. I’m with you.” Victor smiled and reached out for Yuuri’s hand. He stroked Yuuri’s hand gently and smiled.

"I still think you should go," Victor murmured. "As I've said, I'll be there." Victor looked at the faux _Lilium davidii_ in a faux coconut on the table. It was pretty. "Plus, Chris and Khoudia will be there, too. It won't be so bad."

“I know that, but I don’t want to be there,” Yuuri said.

“I know you don’t want to be there.”

“Then why should I go?” Victor sighed. Yuuri’s phone started to ring. They checked their phone. “It’s Ciao Ciao.”

“Pick up,” Victor said. Yuuri did as Victor said.

“Hello?”

“Yuuri!” Coach Cialdini yelled. “Why did Khoudia tell me about you not wanting to go to the banquet? What is this?”

“I don’t want to go,” Yuuri plainly said. “It feels so pointless to me.” Victor tapped Yuuri’s hand.

“You are not going to embarrass me by not coming,” Coach Cialdini said. “Where are you?

“The Old Port.” Coach Cialdini made flabbergasted sounds on the other end.

“Why are you there?!”

“I was thinking about jumping,” Yuuri casually said. Victor looked appalled. Yuuri tapped his hand. They’ll have to explain that to Victor later.

“You can jump all you want,” Coach Cialdini said. “Just do it after the banquet. Because you’re going.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. "That's that, and I refuse to debate this with you any further."

“Okay. Whatever,” Yuuri said.

"Don't ‘whatever' me, Yuuri," Coach Cialdini said. Yuuri ended the call, and they put down their phone. They sighed. So they’re going to the banquet.

“Why would you jump? Don’t you love me?”

“I do,” Yuuri said. “I usually say outlandish things to Ciao Ciao. Don’t take that too seriously.” Victor nodded. “I guess I’m going to the banquet.” Victor brought his hands to his mouth to mask his mouth. Yuuri could tell from the crinkle in the corners of his eyes that he was grinning. “I’m going to complain the entire time, though.”

“And that’s okay! As long as you’re there!” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m so glad you’re going. I get to see you looking good in a suit. We get to inhabit the same space. I get to look at you.”

“You always get to look at me, though,” Yuuri said.

“Not true. You wanted to blindfold me once.” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m glad you let me look at you, though.” Yuuri sheepishly smiled. “Why don’t you like that?”

“Like what?”

“Being looked at.” Yuuri shrugged. “Are you shrugging because you don’t know or because you don’t want to tell me?”

“It makes me feel uncomfortable,” Yuuri said. They took a sip of wine; it burned, but they persisted in drinking. “I don’t like the feeling of eyes being on me. It makes me feel gross.”

“Do you mind it when I look at you?” Victor asked as he squeezed Yuuri’s hand.

“I’ve grown accustomed to it.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t,” Yuuri said. “I like it when you look at me now.” Victor smiled. He reached for his phone and went to the camera. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to take pictures of you,” Victor said. Yuuri made a face. Victor took two flicks. “Now, smile.” Yuuri did as Victor asked. They took another sip of wine, and Victor took a flick. “You’re pretty.”

“Odd,” Yuuri said as they smiled. “Thank you.”

“No, thank _you_ ,” Victor said. Yuuri made a face; Victor took another flick.

“For what?”

“Coming out with me despite not feeling good.” The waitress came out with their soups. Victor had gotten a _soupe à l’oignon_. Yuuri was going to get that, too, but Victor insisted on something that would easier on them. So they agreed that Yuuri would have _consommé_. Yuuri thanked the waitress and brought the bowl to their lips. It was still hot, so they put it down. “What? Is something wrong?”

“The bowl’s still hot,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded. He wiped down his spoon and put it in their soup. They took a spoonful. “Is it good?” Victor nodded and smiled. “That’s good.” Yuuri touched the side of the bowl again. It was still hot.

“Why don’t you use a spoon?” Yuuri made a face and looked at the spoon. Then they looked back at their soup. “Do you know how to use a spoon?”

“Of course I know how to use a spoon,” Yuuri said as they picked up the spoon and pointed it at Victor. “I just don’t know if I _want_ to use a spoon,” they said as they wagged the spoon. Victor laughed. Victor took another flick. “Did you really take a picture of me holding a spoon?”

"Yes. This is priceless, and I want to preserve it." Yuuri laughed. They touched the side of the bowl again. “Okay, this is good.” Yuuri put the spoon down and brought the bowl to their lips again. They slurped. Victor looked at them; Yuuri continued to slurp. They put down their bowl. “Yes?”

“You know slurping is considered rude in the West, right?” Yuuri picked up their bowl again and slurped.

“Yes,” Yuuri said, once they put their bowl down.

“But you’re going to keep doing it?”

“I’m going to keep doing it,” Yuuri said. Victor chuckled. “Do you think people could hear me over the sound of their utensils scraping their eating object?”

“‘Eating object,’” Victor repeated. Yuuri nodded. “It’s dishware, Yuuri.”

"‘Dishware,' ‘eating object,' it makes no difference to me. It holds your food, and you eat off it."

"You don't eat out glasses, and that's dishware," Victor retorted.

“You don’t know what I do.” Victor snickered. “If I eat out of a drinking glass, I’m eating out of a drinking glass.” Victor snickered harder. “I do what I want.”

“And what do you want?” Victor asked.

“Right now?” Victor nodded. “I want to go home.”

“We’re going to go home tomorrow.” Victor reached out to touch their hand. He smiled. "We're going to go home, and I can be with you openly soon." 

“I just want this to be over,” Yuuri said, referring to the Grand Prix and this cup in front of them. Victor took a deep breath.

“It’s going to be over soon. You can last one more day.” Yuuri weakly smiled. “I believe in you.” Yuuri looked at their bowl. “Do you want to resume drinking? Should I let go of your hand now?”

“You can hold my hand later.” 

“I was planning on that.” Yuuri smiled. They picked up their bowl and drank more. They were halfway done already. “Do you want my bread?” Victor pointed at his bread with his spoon. Yuuri looked down at it. Victor took it out of his soup and placed it in Yuuri’s. Yuuri looked at the bread; they picked it up and took a bite of it. After they swallowed, they started to feel nauseous. “So?” Yuuri put it back in Victor’s soup.

“It makes me feel sick.” Victor nodded and took a bite of the bread. Yuuri returned to their soup despite feeling nauseous. They could handle the soup, though.

“I can’t wait until we get home.” Yuuri nodded. Victor reached for his phone and snapped a flick of Yuuri with the bowl to their mouth. Yuuri put down their bowl and smiled. They grabbed their phone and took a flick of Victor. They had taken selfies of them when they were at the port and the museum, but they hadn’t picked up their phone to take flicks while they were here. Victor smiled. Yuuri took another flick. “Are you going to continue taking pictures of me?”

“That is the intent,” Yuuri said.

“Don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop.” Victor smiled. Yuuri took another flick. “Your smile is so gorgeous.”

“So is yours.” Yuuri smiled. Victor took a flick of Yuuri. “My perfection.”

“My happiness,” Yuuri said. They put down their phone to pick up their bowl. They slurped. Victor giggled. Yuuri quickly put down their bowl and got a flick of Victor as he wrapped up his giggling. Victor took a bite of bread, and Yuuri got a flick of that, too. Victor started laughing once he put his bread down. Yuuri took another flick. They reached for their bowl, keeping their phone in one hand and the bowl in another. They slurped some more as they waited for Victor to do something else.

“What are you doing now?” Victor asked.

“Waiting,” Yuuri simply said. Victor made a face; Yuuri took a flick. They didn’t put down their phone; instead, they drank more of their soup. They were almost done.

“You’re almost done,” Victor remarked. Yuuri nodded. “I’m glad that you’re eating… Well, drinking.” Yuuri shrugged and drank more soup. “Do you feel better?”

“I feel… I don’t know,” Yuuri said. They shrugged and waited for Victor to do something else. “I don’t know how I feel.”

“Okay, how do you feel _physically_?” Victor asked. Yuuri shrugged; Victor deadpanned. “How about emotionally?” Yuuri shrugged again. Victor sighed. “Do you actually _not_ know, or do you not want to tell me?”

“I actually don’t know.” Yuuri took another drink of soup. “If I knew, I’d tell you.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Victor said. Yuuri deadpanned. They were tempted to get up and leave, but they also didn’t feel like it. So Yuuri just deadpanned and sighed. Yuuri knew that Victor, in one way or another, was right. They’d probably tell Phichit or Khoudia – hell, even Coach Cialdini – before they’d burden Victor with their problems. “You _do_ know I’m here, right?” Yuuri nodded. “I’d wish you tell me more. It feels like trying to draw blood from a stone trying to get you to open up to me sometimes.”

“I’m sorry. What do you need me to do?”

“Talk to me candidly. Let me be there for you.” Yuuri nodded and took a sip of wine. “I want to be there.”

“Can I tell you how I feel?”

“That’d be a nice start.” Yuuri nodded. “So let’s try this again: How are you feeling physically?”

“I’m feeling fine, I think.” Victor nodded. “I think you were right to convince me to get a light soup.” Victor smiled.

“How are you feeling emotionally?” Yuuri took a sip of wine and bit their lip. “How do you feel about the banquet?”

“I’d still rather not go.”

“But you’re going. Your coach said that you were.” Yuuri shrugged.

“Aside from that, I guess I’m just tired,” Yuuri said, waving their hand flippantly. They almost knocked down their glass. Yuuri moved their glass in front of them. They slurped more soup. “I’m tired of being here. I want to go home.”

"And we will be home soon. It's just one more day, and we can get through this." Victor reached out to touch Yuuri's hand. "It's going to be okay."

“I know it’s going to be okay,” Yuuri said, “but I just want this to be over _now_.” Victor nodded. “I miss my bed. I miss the hamsters. I miss Detroit.” Victor nodded again. Yuuri took a sip of wine. “I just want to go home.”

“And we’re going to. Just give it a little bit longer.” Victor brought Yuuri’s hand to his mouth and kissed their knuckles. “A little bit longer.” Yuuri nodded. They looked down at Victor’s soup; he was almost done, too.

“What do you want to do after we finish eating?” Yuuri asked.

“What do you mean?” Victor asked. “Don’t you want to get back to the hotel to get ready for the banquet?”

“I’d still rather not go to the banquet,” Yuuri said.

“But you’re still going.” Yuuri nodded. “What else could we do before we get ready?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I was asking you.” Victor deadpanned. “I don’t want to have to go back to the hotel yet.” Victor took a large sip of wine. “Maybe we can walk down the port again.”

“We can do that,” Victor said.

“Can we walk slowly? I want to take my time with you.” Victor smiled.

“We can do that, too.” Yuuri smiled. “I’ll finish eating so we can walk down the port again.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said before they took a sip of wine. They finished their soup and continued to drink their wine. They leaned back in their chair and smiled. Victor reached for Yuuri’s hand and started to tap on it. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” Victor said. He smiled. “I love you so much.” Yuuri smiled and nodded. They took a sip of wine. “You make me so happy.”

“You are my happiness,” Yuuri said. Victor smiled. “Would you like it if I called you that?”

“Call me yours, and I will be content.” Yuuri smiled and exhaled. “Say it.”

“I want to say it when it’s right.” Victor rolled his eyes. “Plus, don’t you already know you’re mine?”

“I _know_ I am, but I want to hear you say it.” Yuuri shook their head and took a large sip of wine. They'd need it to hear this. "I don't see your preoccupation with things being ‘right.' Just tell me I'm yours, and I'll leave you alone."

“No, you won’t,” Yuuri said. Victor chuckled.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t, and I couldn’t.” Yuuri nodded and took a sip of wine. “Are you ever going to say it to me?”

"I will; don't worry." Victor sighed and put on a smile. "Why are you smiling if you're upset?"

“You can tell?”

“No. I’m just assuming you’re mildly upset,” Yuuri said. “I mean, I think I’d be some shade of upset if someone I love didn’t say something important to me.” Yuuri looked at their glass of wine. "I don't know. But if you're upset, tell me." 

“Fine, I’m upset.” Yuuri nodded.

“If it means so much to you, I’ll say it.”

“No, don’t say it. Say it when you’re ready.” Yuuri knit their brows. They were confused now. Does Victor _not_ want them to say it now? Yuuri sighed and took a sip of wine. They were almost done, but they didn’t want to be — the more time between them and the banquet, the better.

So now Yuuri has to extend their time with Victor by any means necessary.

#


	58. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri goes to a party before they leave Marseille and it goes left.

#

**(Monday, 14 December 2015 –** **11:28am, Marseille, France)**

Khoudia was standing with her ear pressed to Yuuri’s door. “Oh! Victor!” Khoudia said as soon as she spotted him. Victor blushed. “Come here!” Victor looked at Chris, and Chris shoved him. Khoudia hung up her phone and immediately dialed again. She put her ear back to Yuuri’s door.

“What happened?”

“I haven’t heard from Yuuri since last night,” Khoudia said. “I don’t hear their phone, and they aren’t picking up.”

“Khoudia…”

“Yes?”

“ _I_ haven’t heard from Yuuri since last night, either,” Victor said.

“You mean you didn’t stay the night?” Victor shook his head. “How was the door when you left?” Victor firmly grasped the doorknob and twisted it. He pushed the door forward and let go of the doorknob. Khoudia looked at Victor.

“You didn’t try opening the door?”

“I didn’t expect it to be unlocked,” Khoudia said. “Also, don’t leave my friend’s door unlocked. Something could have happened to them.”

“Well, now you have the opportunity to see if something did,” Victor said. He stretched and got up.

“Aren’t you going to come in with me?” Victor shook his head. “Is there something I should know before I go in? Did you kill Yuuri?”

“I left him alive.” Khoudia grabbed Victor’s wrist and started to pull him inside. Victor broke free of her grasp. “I have to get ready for my exhibition. You can go and check on Yuuri without me.”

“…Okay, I guess, weirdo,” Khoudia said. She closed the door behind her. Victor sighed and looked at the door that kept him away for good measure. He walked towards the direction he was going before Khoudia had stopped him.

Yuuri threw Khoudia off them. “Then get up!” Khoudia yelled. Yuuri rubbed their eyes and looked at the conspicuously empty space next to them in bed.

“How did I…”

“Have you not been up since the banquet?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri shook their head. “You remember nothing?”

“I wouldn’t be asking how I ended up in bed if I could remember how I got here to begin with,” Yuuri said. They rubbed their face.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Khoudia asked.

“Waiting for Ciao Ciao,” Yuuri said with a shrug. They rolled over to get comfortable. “Is it time to leave?”

“Not yet,” Khoudia said. “It’s just the exhibition skate.” Yuuri nodded. “If you want to watch, I’d start getting ready. Unless you’d like to do something else.”

“We haven’t properly gone sightseeing,” Yuuri said. “So we can do that.” Yuuri got out of bed and went to their suitcase. Their body felt weird, but it was nothing they hadn’t faced before. They picked out all black items – but a piece all different from yesterday. “Did I come back by myself last night?”

“I thought Victor had stayed with you,” Khoudia said. “I mean, I thought he would stay with you.”

“I would think that he would stay, too,” Yuuri said. “Did he mention anything about minding his rinkmate?” Yuuri looked back at Khoudia; she shook her head. “So he just… didn’t come back with me last night?”

“No, he _did_ – he carried you in – but I don’t know why he wouldn’t stay the night with you,” Khoudia said. “I mean, I think he talked to Chris before everything unfurled for the night, and he stans, so I would think that he would encourage Victor to stay the night with you.” Yuuri tossed their shirt to Khoudia; she smelled it. “Ooh, what scent is this?”

“Versace Eros.”

“Gay.”

“I know, right?” Yuuri said with a chuckle. “I smell sexy, though.”

“I mean, aren’t you always?” Khoudia asked. Yuuri cackled and smiled.

“So, what are your parents doing?”

“They’re on a date,” Khoudia said. Yuuri grinned. “So we have no one to mind us. We should get into some trouble.”

“Please don’t. I don’t want to be deported to two different countries.”

“Not _legal_ trouble, but like… we should go on an adventure,” Khoudia said.

“Aren’t we already going sightseeing?”

“Yes, but _more_ ,” Khoudia said. Yuuri reached for their phone on their nightstand and started to look for things to do.

“Château d'If?” Yuuri suggested.

“What the fuck is a ‘Château d’If’?”

“Island fortress-prison,” Yuuri said.

“You’re into some weird shit, Yuuri,” Khoudia said. “I hope you know that. You have some weird interests, and I want you to know this.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “I hope Olivia or Victor has given it to you about this in some way because we need to have this discussion.”

“What would _you_ rather do then?” Yuuri asked. They gave Khoudia their phone.

“Palais Longchamp?”

“Nope,” Yuuri said, “went there with Victor yesterday.”

“Then what the fuck do we even do?” Khoudia exasperatedly yelled and tossed Yuuri’s phone on their pillow.

“We can fuck,” Yuuri said with a stone-cold expression. Khoudia looked at Yuuri, deadpan.

“You and I both know that’s not funny.” Yuuri chuckled.

“I know, but it doesn’t stop me from suggesting it,” Yuuri said.

“I know, but why don’t you stop suggesting it? Eventual hope I’ll say ‘yes’?”

“Oh gods, no,” Yuuri said, “I have no clue what I’d do if you said ‘yes.’”

“We need a new in-joke,” Khoudia said. “A _better_ in-joke.”

“Well, you know me: I lack a sense of humor.”

“It’s not that you _lack_ one, but your humor is… unconventional. And that unconventional wit is what throws _a lot_ of people off.” Yuuri shrugged. “ _Please_ tell me Victor’s said something about this.” Yuuri shook their head. “Goddamn it, Victor, you’re dropping the ball.”

“Why does Victor have to be the one to talk to me?”

“You love him,” Khoudia said. “You usually listen to the people you love.”

“No, you don’t,” Yuuri said. Khoudia deadpanned. “Case in point? You.”

“Hey, now…” Khoudia said. “Go take your shower. I’m sick of your shit.”

“Won’t be the first nor the last,” Yuuri said. They grabbed their underwear and went to take their shower.

#

**(Monday, 14 December 2015 – 12:26pm, Marseille, France)**

“Don’t come out!” Khoudia yelled from a close distance. “I am trying to pee.”

“I’d look at you, but you just asked me not to,” Yuuri said. They sat on the floor of the bathtub and waited for the sound of a liquid hitting another liquid from a distance to cease.

“Okay, you can come out now,” Khoudia said. She flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet. Yuuri turned off the shower and grabbed their towel. They sighed inwardly and wished it was Victor on the other side of the shower curtain. But it wasn’t, so they wrapped themselves in their fluffy hotel towel. Khoudia placed Yuuri’s shower slippers in front of them. “I came to give you these.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. They kissed her cheek.

“I’d touch you, but… you know…” Yuuri nodded.

“I understand,” Yuuri said. “Wash your hands.” Khoudia nodded. Yuuri sat at the edge of the tub and watched Khoudia wash her hands. “Did you run into Victor?” Khoudia nodded. “And?”

“He’s getting ready for his exhibition skate so he couldn’t talk much,” Khoudia said. “I guess we’ll just see him when we get home.”

“‘We’?” Yuuri said as they rubbed the towel against their thighs.

“Yeah, ‘we,’” Khoudia said. “I’d like to see him when we get home, too. You should invite him to hang out with us.” Yuuri’s face turned cough drop red. “Afraid we’d expose you?”

“I would rather keep my normal and sane boyfriend away from my weird-ass friends.”

“Victor is neither normal nor sane,” Khoudia said. “He loves _you,_ and you have to be some degree of strange to date you long term.”

“It’s only been a month.” Khoudia grabbed a towel from the rack and draped it around Yuuri’s shoulders. “I don’t think we’re at the point where we can say that we’re in a long-term relationship.”

“Well, are you two steady?” Khoudia asked as she dried off Yuuri’s back.

“I think Victor would cry his soft eyes out if I ever posed the idea of being open or told him, well, you know,” Yuuri said. “So, I think we’re steady. We’ve been moving like we’re exclusive. Not ‘move in together and get a plant and keep a dog’ exclusive, but we’re exclusive enough that Jean-Jacques and his girlfriend noticed.” Khoudia dried Yuuri’s neck.

“Wait, what?!” Khoudia yelled. She dropped the towel.

“What?” Yuuri said as they picked up the towel and started to dry their legs.

“You two were _seen_ together before the banquet?” Yuuri nodded. “Oh, no. This cannot possibly be good.” Khoudia put her hands to her head. “Um, fuck fuck what damage control can we do here? Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Victor didn’t seem worried about it.”

“Victor’s gay and in love; he doesn’t give two shits,” Khoudia said. She stopped her frantic cussing briefly and looked at Yuuri. “You two have a brand to maintain.”

“I didn’t know you were my PR Manager,” Yuuri dryly said. Khoudia looked at them. “I don’t think Jean-Jacques or Isabella care, though.”

“Okay, but if _they_ saw you, other people saw you two, too,” Khoudia said. “You _have_ to start moving differently, and that’s that.” Yuuri sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. But you, Victor, and I can deliberate on what to do once we get home.” She sighed and massaged her temples.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Never, I’m just stressed,” Khoudia said. Yuuri kissed her cheek. “Aah! Go get dressed!” Yuuri started to dry off their waist and thighs. “Wait!”

“Yes?”

“My cousin’s having a party. We can swing by before we leave.”

“Won’t it be too late for us to go to the party?” Khoudia shook her head. “I don’t want to go. I won’t know anyone but you there.”

“We’ll be fine! We can dance and feel good before we go home!” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “It’ll be _fun_. We deserve to officially let our hair down.”

“I have Nationals after this.”

“I _said_ that we could officially let our hair down,” Khoudia said. “Or you can at least unwind a bit before you go and make everyone in Japan suck your ass.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. She held out her pinky finger. “I will make sure you have fun today. Pinky promise.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and linked pinkies with Khoudia. “Great. You won’t regret this!”

“I already do.” Khoudia deadpanned. “Can you leave so I can get dressed now?” Khoudia sucked her teeth and left the bathroom. Yuuri put on their underwear, sat on the floor of the bathroom, and sighed.

#

**(Monday, 14 December 2015 – 7:37pm** **, Marseille, France)**

Khoudia successfully convinced her parents to let her and Yuuri go to A’aisha’s party. Mama Awa was wary, but she eventually conciliated into them going; Mouhamadou was the final boss. He let Awa sweet-talk him into letting them go, though. Yuuri and Khoudia were shocked that Awa had her husband wrapped around her dainty little finger, but they didn’t question it and left before Mouhamadou could change his mind. Khoudia rang the intercom.

“Qu'est-ce?” A’aisha asked over the loud music.

“Khoudia et Yuuri,” Khoudia replied.

“D'accord,” A’aisha said. The buzzer sounded, and they went upstairs. There were people in the stairway smoking weed, and you could hear the afro-beat playing from the first floor.

> Khoudia: Ready to flex your French?
> 
> : No.
> 
> Khoudia: You’ll be fine. We’re amongst our people.
> 
> : *Your people. I’m still Asian.
> 
> Khoudia: Nah, you’re just a brown sugar black with 4A hair.

A’aisha opened the door. “Kiki?” A’aisha said with a smile. “Ah, how lovely it is to see you again!” She kissed both of Khoudia’s cheeks then she looked over at Yuuri. “And this is your… rink mate?” Khoudia nodded. “Hello, I’m A’aisha.” She kissed both of Yuuri’s cheeks. “Pleasure to meet you. Come on in! I’m just getting the real food ready. Eat some yams, drink, be merry.” Yuuri and Khoudia followed A’aisha inside.

“Drinks?” Khoudia asked Yuuri.

“I need one,” Yuuri said. They both walked over to the table with the plastic red cups. Yuuri grabbed one and sniffed it.

“Okay, you don’t have to be extra,” Khoudia playfully said. Yuuri gave her a cup, and she took a sip.

“So, what is it?”

“MD 20/20,” Khoudia said. “A’aisha’s fun already.”

“Should we be drinking Mogen David before we have to see your parents?”

“*Mad Dog.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s Mad Dog; not Mogen David.” Yuuri quickly Googled “Mad Dog 20/20.”

“Nope, you’re wrong. The internet is saying it’s Mogen David 20/20.”

“The internet is often wrong about things,” Khoudia said. “That included. It’s Mad Dog. Now shut your eating hole and drink this Mad Dog.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and took a sip of Mad Dog. “What flavor did you get?” Yuuri took another sip.

“The blue one.”

“I got one of the red ones,” Khoudia said. “Can I have a sip of yours?” Yuuri nodded and gave Khoudia their cup. She took a sip and nodded. Then she took another. “Oh fuck yeah, I love A’aisha.” They exchanged cups. “Let’s have roasted yams.”

“I don’t quite know how to eat _ñame_ , though. I’m only used to _ube_.”

“I’ll show you, you fake African,” Khoudia said with a laugh. Several people looked over at them.

“…Goddamn it, Khoudia,” Yuuri said.

“I forgot, okay,” Khoudia whined. “Also, a forewarning: I have no clue if A’aisha is a good cook, so you might be turned off of roasted yam and _aloko_.”

“ _Aloko_?”

“Fried plantain.”

“So _maduros,_ then?”

“I don’t know what _maduros_ are,” Khoudia said.

“Essentially fried plantains,” Yuuri said. “They’re good even when they’re bad.” Khoudia took a sip of her drink and nodded. “I just hope I can keep it down.”

“Come with me to the bathroom,” Khoudia said. “And bring your bag.”

“Did something happen? Did your period come?”

“No,” Khoudia said. “I just need to give myself a shot before I eat.” Yuuri nodded. They both went to the kitchen. “A’aisha, where’s your bathroom?”

“Room after the this one,” A’aisha said. Khoudia nodded and grabbed Yuuri’s hand. They walked to the bathroom and locked the door. Yuuri gave their bag to Khoudia. She grabbed the kwik pens from Yuuri’s bag. Khoudia pulled her pants down and sat on the lip of the sink while Yuuri had the lid down on the toilet to sit. She put a needle tip on her immediate action pen and set it to her dose. She took the tops off the needle tip.

“Do you need me to give you your shot?”

“I’ve got this,” Khoudia said. She quickly swung her arm and jabbed herself in the thigh with the pen and pushing down on the plunger. She held it in place. “Count to ten.”

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.” Khoudia removed the needle from her thigh and put the main cap back on the needle tip. She unscrewed it from the pen and threw it away.

“Do you need the other pen?” Khoudia shook her head. She remained on the lip of the sink with her pants down. “…Any plans to get up anytime soon?”

“I’m trying to give you space to get not overstimulated,” Khoudia half-truthfully said. She looked at Yuuri’s pen and mentally deliberated on if they should give them a shot, too. She jumped off of the sink and pulled up her pants. “I gave myself my daily shot this morning while you were busy being in a coma.”

“Was it a coma? Or was I just in a pleasant sleep to which got interrupted when you _jumped on my chest_?”

“I needed to wake you up,” Khoudia retorted.

“You didn’t have to jump on my chest.”

“I kind of did, though,” Khoudia said. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Why do you feel the need to be difficult?” Khoudia asked. “What if I just wanted to waterboard you with my drink?”

“With my eyes closed?”

“Yes, I’m trying to give you the full Guantánamo treatment.” Yuuri deadpanned. “Too soon?”

“I think it’s always too soon to talk about waterboarding and human torture, but that’s just me,” Yuuri said. “But fine. I’ll humor you and close my eyes.” Yuuri closed their eyes. Khoudia quickly prepared Yuuri’s pen and set it. She grabbed her cup. “Tilt your head back.” Yuuri nodded and did as Khoudia said. Khoudia quickly gave Yuuri a shot as she poured dragon fruit Mogen David 20/20 into their mouth. She mentally counted to ten, removed the tip from Yuuri’s flesh. She quickly removed the needle tip from the pen, threw the tip away, and put the pen in her pocket.

“Swallow,” Khoudia said.

“I think I’ve said and heard ‘swallow’ a bit too much in my life at this point, but that’s just me,” Yuuri garbled with a mouthful of Mad Dog 20/20. They forced themselves to swallow and felt a hard lump in their throat when they did. Pain tears came from their nasolacrimal ducts, and they opened their eyes.

“Hey there, buddy,” Khoudia cajoled. “How you hangin’?”

“They hang verily,” Yuuri replied. Khoudia rolled her eyes.

“So, how does this red taste to you?” Khoudia asked.

“I’d walk past it in the liquor store… if I knew what flavor it was,” Yuuri said. “I think I prefer my drink.”

“Should we tell A’aisha that her Mad Dog selection could have gone without this one?”

“Don’t be mean to your cousin,” Yuuri said.

“Is she really my cousin if I just found out about her like two days ago?” Yuuri deadpanned. “It’s a valid question. When does a family become family?”

“When you love them.”

“Oh good, so we’re family then,” Khoudia said. She discretely put the cap of the pen back on. “Glad you finally acknowledged our relationship. A shame it took four years for it to happen, though.” Yuuri deadpanned harder. “Do you want to dance?”

“I’m not even drunk yet.”

“You know what… you’re right,” Khoudia said. She took Yuuri’s cup. “Alcohol is now contraband for you. No more drinking.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Plus, you have Xanax, so it’s already a party for you.”

“Xanax isn’t a party drug, though. It’s more of a…” Yuuri bit their lip. “You know that children’s book ‘Go the Fuck to Sleep’?” Khoudia nodded. “Xanax is an instant _that_. It’s not that fun of a drug.”

“You should know.” Khoudia unlocked the door.

“Hey now… you let me get robbed.”

“I fell asleep, okay,” Khoudia said. “We should eat, though. I started thinking about _aloko_ when I was interrogating you, and my mouth is watering.”

“All you think about is food.”

“All _you_ think about is _dick_.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “Now, _aloko_ and yams.”

“ _Aloko_ and yams,” Yuuri repeated. They went in their pocket for their phone. They hadn’t touched it much today – which was weird. Victor would have texted them a thousand times by now, but their phone was suspiciously dry, and they needed to know how the exhibition went, at least. “So, you saw Victor earlier?” Khoudia nodded. “Before the exhibition, right?” Khoudia nodded and took a sip of her drink. She opened the door. “It’s over now, right?”

“Yes,” Khoudia said.

“So he’s probably on the plane back to Detroit, right?”

“Probably,” Khoudia said. “Why?”

“He hasn’t texted me since yesterday,” Yuuri said. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Khoudia said. “Text him and see what happens.”

“What do I say?”

“Send him a kiss emoji with a pretty heart,” she suggested. Yuuri unlocked their phone and went to their iMessage conversation with Victor. No messages from today nor last night. They sent him the kiss emoji with a blue heart and went to their other messages. Yuuri and Khoudia picked an inconspicuous spot in the living room to eat and drink in some sort of queer comfort. They scrolled back up and sighed. They finished their first drink; Yuuri went to get a second, but Khoudia grabbed Yuuri by the wrist. “What did I say?”

“Okay but hear me out: You said we could let our hair down at the party, and I would like another drink.” Khoudia deadpanned. “You said it. Don’t deny it.”

“…” Yuuri kissed Khoudia’s cheek, broke out of her grasp, and went to the beverage table. They grabbed two cups and returned to Khoudia. Their phone buzzed. Yuuri gave their cup to Khoudia and fished their phone out of their pocket. To Yuuri’s chagrin, it wasn’t Victor, but he _did_ read the text.

> : Lmao

Was all Yuuri could say. What could Yuuri possibly have done that provoked that _lack_ of response? Yuuri showed their phone to Khoudia.

“Give him like two minutes,” Khoudia said.

“Why two?”

“That’s usually how long it takes you to respond to me when I text you,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at her.

“You… time me?” Khoudia took a slow sip out of a cup.

“No, I just… estimate. Usually takes you about two minutes, and you’re a fast typist.” Yuuri shrugged. “But don’t like, set a timer for two minutes to time him because that’s weird.”

“Have… have you timed me?”

“…Once,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at her. “I was curious! You sent me four complex sentences in your second language in two minutes, and I was amazed.” Yuuri grabbed a cup from Khoudia and took a slow sip.

“Nothing you say is going to make this better; you know that, right?”

“I figured,” Khoudia said. “Shit, while we’re at it, I stalked your Facebook and Instagram before I sent you a friend request, too.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “I retweeted all of your original Tweets for the culture.”

“And you did all of this within a month?”

“Not that hard to find ‘Yuuri Katsuki’ on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter,” Khoudia said with a shrug. Yuuri deadpanned. “I said what I said.” Yuuri sighed, but they were filled with wild curiosity.

“Was I the only one?”

“Nah, think of it as a background check,” Khoudia said. “This is normal.”

“You should stop.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, I’m confused.”

“‘No’ as in ‘No, I’m not going to stop,’” Khoudia said. “I need to know if any of my potential friends have odious opinions before I decide to move forward with our acquaintanceship.”

“I have my privacy settings set to friends only.”

“No, you don’t,” Khoudia said.

“Um, _yeah,_ I do.”

“No. You don’t.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Yuuri, you’re talking to the person who stalked you two weeks before they sent a friend request. I would be the first person to know about your privacy settings in the year 2012.” Yuuri looked at Khoudia. “I’m right. And this was _before_ you made spam accounts, so I knew everything there was to know about 1992 to 2012 Yuuri Katsuki.”

“…You didn’t follow me on Tumblr, though.”

“We don’t discuss Tumblr,” Khoudia said.

“See, this is where we differ because we _do_ discuss Tumblr.”

“Not when they’re yours,” Khoudia said. “Fucking queer art hoe _fudanshi_.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and accidentally caught the gaze of an ombre pink afro. Her eyes invited Yuuri outside. “What?”

“Um, I think I’m going to get some fresh air for a bit,” Yuuri said. “Getting kind of sensory weird in here.”

“Oh, of course, then,” Khoudia said as she gently touched Yuuri’s arm. “Zip your sweater, or you’ll catch a cold. And bring your phone in case I need you.” Yuuri nodded. They got up and put their plate in their seat. “Leave your cup and bag if you want. You know I’ll watch it.”

“…You let me get robbed.”

“I was _asleep_!” Khoudia yelled. The ombre pink-haired girl looked at Khoudia but soon returned her gaze towards Yuuri. “Just go. I’ll be here.” A’aisha came out of the kitchen and set multiple dishes on the table. She stopped Yuuri before they could get away.

“Leaving so soon, _mon colibri_?” A’aisha asked. She gently touched Yuuri’s arm.

“N-no, just getting some air,” Yuuri said.

“Come back soon before Kiki goes wild without you,” she urged.

“Trust me,” Yuuri said, “I can’t leave her alone for too long. She’s… her.”

“I’m _right_ here.”

“We know,” Yuuri said. Khoudia rolled her eyes. A’aisha touched Yuuri’s upper back and urged them to get the air they claimed they needed. Yuuri left the building and sat on the stoop. The pink-haired girl followed and eventually joined Yuuri on the step.

“So you’ve gotten in good with the hostess already,” she said.

“She’s my friend’s cousin, and she already likes me for some reason,” Yuuri said. “It’s weird, but A’aisha seems nice.”

“Dragged here by your friend then?” Yuuri nodded. She chuckled. “I’m glad she dragged you here.” Yuuri hehed. “I’m Lailah. What’s your name?”

“Yuuri.” Lailah nodded and smiled. “I like your hair.”

“Thank you! I like your, um… face.” Lailah said with a giggle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to say. The compliment caught me off guard.” She reached into her sock and produced a tube. She opened it, took the conical object out, and lit it. “Smoke?” Yuuri nodded.

“So, why’d you ask me to come out here?”

“I just wanted to talk to you one-on-one,” Lailah said. “Away from the music, the people, your friends.” Yuuri nodded.

“Well, you have me out here and in the cold. What do you want to talk about?” Lailah passed the cone to Yuuri.

“Um… I don’t know,” Lailah said with a goofy grin. “I didn’t think all of this through, but I just really wanted to talk to you.” Yuuri took two hits and passed it back. “Where’s your family from?”

“Japan,” Yuuri said. Lailah nodded. “I’m assuming you’re African.”

“No, actually,” Lailah said. “I’m Martiniquaise and Dominican, but I get that a lot.” Yuuri nodded. Lailah took a pull. “Your friend?”

“Senegalese.”

“Huh, odd,” Lailah murmured. “Isn’t A’aisha Ivorian?” Yuuri nodded. “So… how?”

“My friend’s mom’s mom was Senegalese,” Yuuri explained. Lailah nodded and took another pull. “Do you know A’aisha well?”

“We go to uni together. She’s brilliant and funny.” Lailah passed the cone back. She leaned back with her elbows on the next step. “Um… where are you from? I don’t think I’ve seen you on campus before.”

“Khoudia and I live in America. We’re just visiting.”

“Khoudia?”

“A’aisha’s cousin,” Yuuri said. Lailah nodded.

“So you’re visiting? What’s the occasion?”

“I’d tell you, but I don’t want to relive the event,” Yuuri explicated. “You can ask Khoudia if you want, though.” Lailah shrugged. Yuuri took a pull and dropped the ash. A phone started to ring; it was Lailah’s.

“Hold on,” she said. “ _Who is this?_ ” Yuuri looked at Lailah. “ _Ah, is this the new number?_ ” She chuckled. “ _I’ll be sure to save it when we’re off the phone. How are you?_ ” Lailah gently touched Yuuri’s arm when they reached for their phone. They looked at the lock screen; no text from Victor. Yuuri decided to give him another two minutes even though it’s been a solid ten. They took the plunge and texted him again.

: Did I do something?

Yuuri put their phone back in their pocket and took another pull. There was a buzz, and Yuuri immediately took their phone back out. It was just Khoudia.

> Khoudia: Where did you go
> 
> : I’m having a smoke
> 
> : And I’m taking a drag
> 
> Khoudia: We haven’t been to any bodegas bitch where did you produce this cigarette
> 
> : I went to a tobacco farm and rolled it myself.
> 
> Khoudia: …
> 
> Khoudia: Get a better sense of humor, please.

Yuuri took another drag off the joint. “ _Did she have the baby yet?_ ” Lailah asked the person on the other end. “ _Really?!_ ” She gasped. “ _I’ll stop by this weekend to come and see the baby!_ ” Lailah rubbed her hand up and down Yuuri’s arm. “ _Yes, of course. We have to celebrate this!_ ” Yuuri took another pull and started to process that Lailah _might_ be interested in something. It was the touching – definitely the touching. She’s touching them the way Victor would touch them during their museum dates and it… surprisingly didn’t make them nauseous as they had been in the past few days. “ _Okay. I love you, too. Good night._ ” The call was over. “I’m sorry. _My_ cousin was calling to tell me that his wife had the baby a few hours ago.” Yuuri nodded and passed the marihuana back to Lailah. “So, are you in college?” Yuuri nodded. “What do you study?”

“Art and dance,” Yuuri said. Lailah nodded.

“You know what? I can see that. You give me a light-hearted, creative vibe.”

“I don’t think ‘light-hearted’ is the word most people would use to describe me, but I’m glad at least one person doesn’t immediately associate me with death and decay.” Lailah chuckled and took a hit.

“Well, I guess I’m the first,” she said after she exhaled. “And I’m glad about that.” Yuuri chuckled. “So, do you have a girlfriend?” Yuuri shook their head.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Lailah shook her head. “How old are you, anyway?”

“19. You?”

“23,” Yuuri said. She was a bit on the younger side – which immediately puzzled Yuuri on how old A’aisha was. Yuuri assumed she was around the same age as Khoudia and them, but they were hit with the reality that she might _not_ be. “Do you happen to know how old A’aisha is?”

“Um, she’s a junior right now, so I think about… 20?” Yuuri nodded. “I want to know more about you.”

“I’d like to know more about you, too,” Yuuri said. “What do you study?”

“I’m in med school, so I’m going to be in college for a long, long time,” Lailah said with a sigh. “Is it any easier with your degree type? I was thinking about switching majors to something else. I hate med school.”

“The work is different but just as demanding,” Yuuri said. “You’re just exchanging one burden for another.”

“Sounds like you just hate college,” Lailah said. Yuuri pondered that and shrugged. They had a different college experience compared to others, but, then again, not everyone is essentially a student-athlete. “Yes? No? How accurate am I?”

“Uh, well, it’s not that I _hate_ college. I just… I don’t particularly enjoy it either.” Yuuri shrugged again. “Senioritis is real. I’m just ready to graduate.” Lailah chuckled.

“Thinking about going for your Masters?”

“Please do not remind me that I need a Masters to do anything in art or dance,” Yuuri said. Lailah laughed, and, for once, Yuuri didn’t fear the sound. It was sweet and airy and pretty – just like Lailah with her hematite eyes and gap-tooth smile. “I was thinking of going back to Japan and…” Yuuri sighed. “I don’t know. I’m in a transitional period right now. I haven’t made any big decisions yet.”

“I’d love to hear about it when you come to them. What’s your Facebook?”

“My name?”

“I don’t _know_ your last name,” Lailah said. She gave Yuuri her phone. Yuuri went to Facebook and sent themselves a friend request from Lailah’s account. “Remember to accept my friend request when we go back upstairs.”

“I will. It’ll be hard to forget you.” Lailah grinned.

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t,” she said. She took another hit. “So, when do you leave?”

“Tonight,” Yuuri said. She knit her brow.

“You can’t leave. I want to spend the morning with you.” She passed the joint back to Yuuri.

“I don’t speak enough French to afford to stay an extra night,” Yuuri said. “I also don’t think my wallet can handle me staying an extra night.” Yuuri took a pull. “I’m sorry, but I _do_ have to leave.” Lailah sighed. Next thing Yuuri knew, Lailah’s lips were on theirs, and Yuuri kissed her back. Two people came downstairs, and the door loudly shut behind them, pulling the two of them away from each other. “Um…”

“I should’ve asked before I initiated; I’m sorry. I just wanted to kiss you before you left.” Yuuri shrugged.

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have kissed back.”

“Why shouldn’t you have?” Lailah asked. “ _You’re_ not in a relationship, and _I’m_ not in a relationship, so… All I’m saying is that we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I am,” Yuuri said. “I can’t explain it to you because I have no clue what’s going on, but this is wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“You’re just blaming yourself to get out of having to be with me,” Lailah accused.

“I’m _not_ ,” Yuuri enunciated. “It’s really _not_ you, Lailah. Trust me on this one.”

“I’ve trusted you this far, and you haven’t done anything to revoke it.” She sighed. “I wish you could stay.”

“I don’t,” Yuuri said. Lailah frowned. “I’m sorry, I just had a really bad… stay in Marseilles.”

“You should have picked a better hotel.”

“No, it wasn’t the hotel,” Yuuri said. “Just that the events that transpired make me want to _leave_ and never come back.”

“Not even to see me?” Yuuri bit their lip. “No problem. I can just come and see you. I’ve never been to America before. You can be my tour guide.”

“Oh no,” Yuuri said. “Do not do that. America is a hellhole.”

“It’s not if you’re in it,” Lailah said. There was silence between them. Then Yuuri’s phone started to buzz repeatedly. Lailah looked at Yuuri’s pants. “Shouldn’t you get that?” Yuuri bit the bullet and picked up despite Lailah’s eyes being firmly fixed on them.

“Hello?”

“Yuuri!” Khoudia yelled. “We have to leave right now. The block is hot.”

“What?”

“The block. Is hot.”

“Okay, you just repeated the last sentence, and that explained nothing,” Yuuri said.

“Bitch, we gotta go. The police are on their way; someone’s doing coke in the kitchen; and my parents are calling us so we can go home.”

“Who brought coke to a Muslim’s party?” Yuuri asked. Lailah started laughing. “You know what, doesn’t matter.”

“Just come up, grab some _aloko_ , and get your shit. Also, request an Uber. We won’t be at the hotel before Celestino if we walk.” Yuuri sighed. “ _D’accord? D’accord_.”

“If you have to come down, you might as well bring my things because I’m already outside.”

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” Khoudia groaned.

“Tell A’aisha that her party was great, and the Mogen David 20/20 was appreciated for me,” Yuuri said.

“Okay,” Khoudia said. “I’ll come down in two minutes.”

“Okay. See you soon.” Khoudia ended the call.

“Someone brought coke to A’aisha’s party?” Yuuri shrugged.

“I mean, that’s what Khoudia’s saying. And the police have been called, too, so you should probably run up and get your things before they arrive. And put the cone back in your sock.”

“Good looks,” Lailah said. Yuuri gave her the joint back, and Lailah ashed it on the stoop. She slid it back into her shoe. Lailah grabbed Yuuri’s hand. “So…”

“So…”

“This is goodbye.”

“For now,” Yuuri said.

“You’ll be back?” Yuuri shrugged. “Then why say ‘for now’?”

“Maybe you _can_ come and experience Detroit sometime before I graduate,” Yuuri said. “I don’t know. We’ll have to coordinate.” Lailah wistfully smiled. “Let me get an Uber before Khoudia comes down.” The front door shut loudly.

“Okay, hoe, where the Uber at?”

“Oh, she’s here already,” Yuuri said. “That wasn’t two minutes.”

“I can’t tell time,” Khoudia said. She gave Yuuri their coat. “Hello.”

“Khoudia?” Khoudia looked taken aback when Lailah said her name. “I’m sorry, Yuuri had mentioned that you brought them here during our smoke break.”

“Yeah, that was me,” Khoudia said. She leaned on the fencing to the basement. “Enjoy the party?” Lailah nodded. Yuuri booked the Uber.

“Three minutes,” Yuuri told Khoudia. They put their phone in their pocket and grabbed their coat. They shrugged it on and grabbed their bag.

“Your _aloko_ is in your bag,” Khoudia said. Yuuri nodded. “Oh, you should go and get your things. It’s about to go down,” she said to Lailah.

“Dually noted,” Lailah said. She forced herself up and kissed Yuuri before she retreated upstairs to avoid the impending shitstorm. Lailah went upstairs to grab her things. Khoudia looked at Yuuri.

“So, what happened here?”

“We just had a smoke and talked,” Yuuri said.

“That looked nothing like just talking.”

“Who are you to judge?”

“Your sister and co-parent. Which means that I can judge the shit you do with no restraints.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “You know that’s my cousin’s _friend,_ right? I can just ask A’aisha to ask her what happened between you two.”

“Ask away then,” Yuuri said. “But A’aisha has no reason to tell you the tea.” A car pulled up, and Yuuri and Khoudia froze. Yuuri’s phone buzzed, and they slowly took it out, not making any sudden moves. They exhaled when they saw the message. “It’s just the Uber. We’re good.” Khoudia exhaled. Yuuri and Khoudia got into the Uber, and their driver drove them to the hotel so they can go home.

#


	59. As Though You Were Absent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri have a terse conversation in class.

#

**(Tuesday, 15 December 2015 –** **5:11pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri’s first action when they arrived at home was to go to bed and wait for Victor to text them. They had the opportunity to check their phone while they were in the Uber. Victor read their follow-up text, too. They would have to bite the bullet and call him eventually to figure out why he’s acting so brand new. He may be Victor Nikiforov, but even _he_ doesn’t do that. Then Yuuri was “blessed” with another idea: Ask Chris what happened with Victor. Neither of them was preferable, but Yuuri would prefer to talk to Victor to fill the hole in their chest. They looked at the picture of the flowers he got them and sighed.

> : I miss you

They told him. Yuuri sighed harder. But then their phone buzzed; finally! It’s Victor!

> Victor: I miss you too, but I don’t want to talk to you right now.
> 
> : But why?
> 
> Victor: …

Yuuri sighed. They knew six things for sure:

  1. Sometime between arriving at the banquet and Yuuri waking up yesterday, they either said or did something to Victor that upset him;
  2. They’re not going to get any answers from him until he breaks;
  3. He wants to be left alone until then;
  4. Chris might not be the best person to ask about this since he’s Victor’s friend; he has no loyalty to Yuuri;
  5. This is going to be a battle of wills;
  6. They’re ultimately going to have to be miserable until he caves and decides to talk to them again.



They sighed again. They had no clue what to do with themselves until Victor would reach the breaking point, when he would reach it, _if_ he would ever reach it, and what Yuuri should say to the people that know about them. Yuuri would – naturally – tell Khoudia. She’s _Khoudia._ Yuuri would also tell Phichit… if Phichit wasn’t acting so Hollywood.

> Khoudia: Hoes
> 
> Phichit: ?
> 
> Khoudia: Aida and Yande are having a Christmas recital on December 18th, and Mama wants to know if you’d like to come.
> 
> Phichit: Of course. Yuuri and I will be there.

Yuuri looked at their phone and rolled their eyes.

> : I’m not.
> 
> Phichit: …
> 
> Khoudia: Yes, you are.
> 
> Khoudia: Aida and Yande look up to you. You gotta.
> 
> : No.
> 
> Khoudia: …Don’t make me come over.
> 
> : Have fun banging on a door because I’m going to be asleep.
> 
> Phichit: I live there.
> 
> : I’m putting the chain on the door, so have fun.
> 
> Masabeeh: Whoa, whoa, whoa, where is all this hostility coming from?
> 
> : Ask Phichit. I’m sleeping. Good night.

Yuuri threw their phone under their bed and put their head under their pillow. If they’re lucky, someone will break in in an armed robbery attempt, and they get killed in the process. Yuuri and Phichit didn’t own much regarding valuables, but – as the adage goes – one man’s trash is another’s treasure. They just hoped that the robber(s) left the hamsters alone.

#

**(Wednesday, 16 December 2015 – 8:09am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri was in their art history class nursing a white chocolate iced latte. Victor came in and stopped in his tracks. “Good morning,” Yuuri murmured despite the nausea in their belly and the lump in their throat.

“Good morning,” Victor murmured. He walked over to the seat in front of Yuuri’s. Yuuri remained silent and resumed drinking their beverage and drawing Hadiya at the windowsill. They left their phone under their bed, so they didn’t have to be bothered by their rink mates, the temptation of crying on the phone to Victor, and the temptation of going over to Olivia’s, but they didn’t wholly withdraw like they intended because they have a MacBook and they needed to work on their art history paper. Phichit never came in the bedroom, so Yuuri didn’t have to talk to him, which allowed them to work on their paper in peace, but they expected that they would have to have another taut conversation that left no one satisfied with him soon.

Victor reached into his bookbag for his journal and notebook. He turned around. “I have something for you,” Victor said.

“Yes?” Yuuri said. They put down their graphing pencil and leaned back. Victor put an envelope on Yuuri’s desk; he locked eyes with Yuuri. “Victor.”

“Yuuri, I don’t want to get into it. If I do, I’ll start crying again.”

“Then let’s parse this out in the library,” they suggested. “I don’t want you to cry.” Victor looked at Yuuri with soft eyes. Then he took a deep breath.

“No,” he said. “I can’t. I don’t want to be alone with you.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m sorry that I hurt you. I want to make things right.”

“I’m not ready for it. Just read my letter.” He bit his lip. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Yuuri said.

“No, you don’t,” Victor said. Yuuri looked dubiously at the envelope. “It won’t kill you.”

“I wish it would.”

“I wish I could,” Victor said. “I love you so much I just want to bite your tongue off and let you bleed.”

“That’s extreme,” Yuuri remarked.

“You make me feel extreme feelings.”

“You make _me_ feel extreme feelings,” Yuuri said. “Victor, I’ve been so confused by your sudden shift in behavior that I don’t know what to do with myself.” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s wrist, picked up the letter, and put it in their hand.

“Take it. I want you to know how I feel.”

“You know I don’t understand the purpose of your notes,” Yuuri said.

“You’ll understand this one,” Victor said.

“Is it Whitman?”

“No,” Victor said.

“Then I won’t understand it,” Yuuri said.

“Take the damn note,” Victor said.

“I don’t want it,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t care if you don’t; you’re taking it.” Yuuri rolled their eyes and broke the contact between Victor and themselves. They put the letter in their sketchbook and shoved it in their bookbag. “You’re not going to read it now?”

“Class starts in five minutes,” Yuuri said. “I wouldn’t have the time even if I wanted to.” Victor sighed.

“What are you doing after your math class?”

“Home,” Yuuri said.

“Is there something there for you?”

“The hamsters,” Yuuri said. “What are you doing after class?”

“I don’t know,” Victor said. “I just know that I don’t want to be in the apartment. I have nothing there for me – here for me – anymore.” Yuuri remained silent. “I’ve been thinking about going back to St. Petersburg for a while.”

“Good,” Yuuri said. Victor looked at Yuuri. “You should go home. Rest, reset. Come back when you’re ready.”

“I might stay,” Victor said. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Detroit will miss you,” Yuuri said.

“Detroit isn’t the one I want to miss me,” Victor murmured. He looked Yuuri in the eyes, sighed, and turned back around. He picked this seat for the day because he wanted to avoid the temptation of having the ability to look at Yuuri. Picking this seat meant nothing if he was just going to turn around and talk to them. He hated that Yuuri made them so weak in the knees and weak in resolve. He wanted to be able to hate them for what they’ve done to him, but he couldn’t bear hating Yuuri. Every fiber of his being loved Yuuri. Which is why he needed to go back to Russia and stay there. If he were lucky, he wouldn’t need to wear the ring. He’d be able to take it off and forget Yuuri ever existed and would go back to the closet he was so excited to leave.

Yuuri sighed and took a sip of their iced latte. Laura came in and dropped her bag and the two boxes of donuts on the desk. She immediately went to the podium and started to log in. “Hello class, today we’re watching a documentary about Caravaggio.” Victor quickly glanced back at Yuuri. They were focused on their hands. He turned around again.

“You haven’t touched your phone at all,” Victor said.

“It’s at home. I didn’t want to be bothered.”

“Is that what you think of the people around you? Bothersome?”

“No,” Yuuri said. “I just didn’t want to have to carry something around that’s only going to trigger me. You don’t want to talk to me. I don’t want to get yelled at by my rink mates over something. I don’t want to talk to Chris. I just want to be left alone.” Victor took note and turned around. “And now you’re ignoring me. Again. If you’re going to be like that, stay like that; I want none of it.”

“Dually noted,” Victor murmured. And, like that, Victor stayed turned around.

#

**(Wednesday, 16 December 2015 – 11:19am** **, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

The documentary ended, and Laura flicked the lights back on. Yuuri rubbed their desensitized eyes and focused on the back of Victor’s head. “Congratulations, you have made it to the end of this European art history course,” Laura said. “Please leave your final paper on the desk; it was truly a pleasure reading all of your thoughtful responses throughout the semester, and I can’t wait to read your papers.” Yuuri took their paper out of their binder; Victor got up with his paper. He put his final on the professor’s desk and went back to his. Victor turned around to face Yuuri one last time.

“It was nice going to the museum with you, Yuuri,” Victor said.

“Likewise,” Yuuri said. They got up from their desk and gave their paper to Laura.

“It was a pleasure having you in this class, Mr. Katsuki,” Laura said.

“Thank you, Dr. Heiner,” Yuuri said. They returned to their desk and looked for their bag. “Where’s my– oh.” Victor was holding Yuuri’s bag. “Thank you,” Yuuri said as they took it from him. Victor and Yuuri locked eyes. “I should go. To math.”

“I should go, too,” Victor said.

“You said you weren’t going home.”

“I’m not,” Victor said. “I’m going to find something to do and do it. Don’t text me.”

“I had no plans to,” Yuuri said. “I don’t even have my phone with me, so I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” They walked to the elevator; Yuuri pushed the down button. Victor looked over at Yuuri.

“Read my letter,” Victor said with urgency.

“I’ll do that on my own time,” Yuuri said.

“Stop being difficult.”

“Me? Difficult? I think you’re missing something here,” Yuuri said. “I’m not the one who started acting weird after the Grand Prix; _you_ are. I’m not the one who’s writing notes that explain nothing; you are. I’m not the one who’s being so hot and cold. I’m temperate. I want to know what’s your issue, what I did, what I can do to make things up. If you don’t want to be with me, just say so so that I can live my life.” The elevator came; they stepped on.

“I need to think about it,” Victor said. “My letter says everything. Just read it.”

“And I said I’ll read it on my own time.”

“I know, but I wish you’d just read it now, so I don’t have to be in misery,” Victor said.

“You’re in misery, but what about me?” Yuuri clapped back. “What about my agony? My anxiety? My depression?” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s arm and led them off the elevator. “Take care of yourself, but don’t forget that you do not exist in a vacuum and that your errant behavior has real-world consequences. So drive me away if you want to, but don’t think that I won’t take the hint and move along.”

“Is that what I’m doing? Driving you away?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Yuuri said. “You’ve completely shut me out. You won’t talk to me. You’re telling me to ‘read the letter,’ but you won’t just spit it out. You keep dancing around the subject, and I have never been more tired of dance. You won’t be direct with me, and you know I don’t understand anything that is any less than straightforward. You’re being a fucking weirdo – and this is coming from King Weirdo. Pick a lane and stay in it.” Victor walked Yuuri to the door of their math class. “So? What’s your final thoughts?” Victor bit his lip. “Don’t take forever deciding. I have a final to take.” Silence. “Okay then,” Yuuri said as they grabbed the doorknob to their classroom. “It was nice knowing you. I meant it when I said that I enjoyed going to the museum with you. I just wish things could have ended differently.” Victor yanked Yuuri back from the door, and towards him; he kissed them. He put his fingers in their hair and held Yuuri by their head. Victor pulled away but didn’t let go. Yuuri’s face turned beet red.

“I don’t want this to be over,” Victor said. “Go take your final. I love you. I’ll try and be more direct with you.”

“I mean, I don’t have an option in _not_ taking my final,” Yuuri said.

“Aren’t you going to tell me that you love me?” Victor weakly asked.

“I thought it was obvious?”

“I want to hear you say it,” Victor said. “Tell me you love me, Yuuri, or else I won’t be able to sleep.”

“I love you,” Yuuri said. They started to work their hands into Victor’s pockets. Victor took a breath. “I can’t believe I have to say it at this late stage, but I –” Yuuri got to their goal; 11:40am. They grabbed the doorknob. “–have to go to math.” They broke out of Victor’s grasp.

“Wait!”

“Victor, my class just started,” Yuuri said.

“I won’t hold you any longer, but come here,” Victor said. Yuuri let go of the doorknob and stood toe to toe with Victor. He gently kissed them. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Aren’t we going to– You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, it matters,” Victor said. “What were you going to say?”

“Aren’t we going to see each other for Christmas?”

“Maybe,” Victor said. “I have my reservations, but I probably will.” Victor kissed Yuuri again. “I wish you didn’t have to go and suffer in that class.” Victor sniffed Yuuri’s hair. “I just want you to take me home. But I’m still upset, and you have a final to take.”

“ _What_ did I do that made you upset? I’ll fix it.”

“What do you _think_?” Victor said.

“Uh… breathing? I know I get annoyed with myself for breathing.” Victor deadpanned. He opened the door for Yuuri. “Was that not it?”

“Go take your final, please,” Victor said. He ushered Yuuri inside. Yuuri’s classmates looked at them. Yuuri quickly went to their seat and kept their eyes down; they could feel the judgmental stares, and they wished they _could_ just skip their final and be with Victor, but no, they had to take their calculus final.

#


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly just skip this chapter and wait with bated breath for part ii

#

**(Thursday, 17 December 2015 –** **11:45am, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

Yuuri took their French final, and they were confident that they got a solid C. Their parents would be disappointed in them for getting a C, but it was better than an F for not doing anything. Cs get degrees; from C to shining C. Yuuri was sad about their French grade because they knew that they could do better – so much better – but this C was the best that everyone was getting.

Yuuri was in the cafeteria of the Main Hall, waiting for Mama Awa to come. She stayed faithful to her word and called them to tell them to be ready after class. Mama Awa was a good woman with her flaws, but the way she loved her daughter’s rink mates was unparalleled. “Hummingbird!” Mama Awa said on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, Mama?”

“I am on Cass Avenue,” she said. “Come out.”

“Yes, Mama,” Yuuri said. She ended the call, and Yuuri got up. While Yuuri was walking, they ran into Victor – who was with a girl with red hair. They were talking about something.

“S-sorry,” Yuuri murmured. They tried to rush past, but Victor grabbed Yuuri by the elbow. “Let go, please.”

“Did you read my letter?” Victor asked.

“You’re with your friend. We can talk about this later.”

“How are we supposed to talk when I texted you last night, and you never responded?” Victor clapped.

“You’re literally with your friend. Don’t be rude.”

“I actually don’t give a fuck,” she said. “Nice to meet you, by the way. Victor talks about you a lot.” Yuuri looked at Victor. “All good things! He’s heads over heels.”

“Is he now?”

“Extremely,” she said. Victor looked back at his friend. “Don’t look at me. Talk to your boyfriend.” A blush crept across Victor’s face. Victor ushered Yuuri to an isolated corner of the hall.

“I have an appointment,” Yuuri clipped.

“This won’t take long,” Victor said. He loosened his grip on Yuuri’s arm. “I’m sorry for being rough. I just needed to talk to you.” Yuuri “hm”ed. “But you haven’t read my note yet, have you?” Yuuri shook their head. “Do you still have it?”

“I don’t have my art history binder on me,” Yuuri said.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Victor cussed in Russian. “You kind of need to read it.”

“CliffNotes.”

“What?”

“What are the CliffNotes?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Victor said. “What is that?”

“Well,” Yuuri started to explain. “I–” Their phone started to ring. Yuuri signaled to hold the thought and picked up their phone. “Yes, Mama?”

“Where are you? I am waiting.”

“One of my friends stopped me. I’ll be right out.” Victor opened his mouth to protest, but Yuuri hushed him with their finger.

“Okay,” she said and ended the call. Yuuri put their phone back in their pocket.

“Look, we can discuss this later,” Yuuri said and walked off. They exited the building and started to walk towards Cass Avenue.

> Awa: Yuuri, dépêche-toi. Je ne veux pas acheter Kiki Tim Hortons.
> 
> : I’m walking to you right now. Send your location.
> 
> Awa: CL

Yuuri opened the location in their maps. They didn’t have to walk far. Yuuri walked around to the passenger’s side; Khoudia was sitting there. “Washpoppin?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Moral support,” Khoudia said. “Mom said we could get Applebee’s after, and I’m not the one to pass up Applebee’s.” Yuuri deadpanned. “You’re letting the heat out; get in.” Yuuri got in the backseat and put their bag next to them.

“How was your French final, Yuuri?” Mama Awa asked as she shifted gears. Yuuri mentally cursed. Their French final was the last thing they wanted to think about.

“It was fine,” Yuuri said.

“Do you think you did well?”

“I think I passed,” Yuuri said with a shrug. Yuuri looked into the rearview mirror; Awa was back in her _niqāb_.

“Why do you not know?”

“I mean… I _just_ took the test,” Yuuri said.

“Have confidence in yourself, hummingbird,” Mama Awa said.

“Yeah, hummingbird, have _confidence_ in yourself,” Khoudia irreverently said. Yuuri poked their head from the backseat to look at Khoudia. “Put on your seatbelt.”

“I **am** in my seatbelt,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri, sit back,” Mama Awa said. Yuuri sat back. They were going to see their doctor. They felt like boiled feces once again after ~6 hours each in two days of not feeling like that. Yuuri didn’t know why they had a total of 12 hours of not feeling like trash during a heatwave, but they were going to the doctor to find that out.

“So, Kiki, how was _your_ French final?” Yuuri clipped.

“I passed it with flying colors,” Khoudia coolly said. “I’m an A student in French.” Yuuri rolled their eyes but didn’t dare expose Khoudia and her habit of getting Cs on her French assignments. Yuuri looked at the rearview mirror again. They could see the crinkle in Mama Awa’s eyes at the conversation and pride she has in her favorite daughter.

“I am sure you did very well, Yuuri,” Mama Awa said. Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Victor: I know we don’t have to anymore, but I want to go to the museum with you again. Our museum excursions have been, simply put, the best.
> 
> Victor: I don’t appreciate you walking away from me.
> 
> : I *have* an appointment, Victor.
> 
> Victor: I know. I understand. But it still hurts.
> 
> Victor: What about what I said yesterday?
> 
> : Do whatever.

Three dotty bois appeared on screen, and Yuuri immediately went to their chat with Khoudia. She had texted them this morning to remind Yuuri of their appointment with Dr. Kasparian. Yuuri’s been going to Dr. Kasparian since they’ve been in Detroit. At first, they didn’t have a doctor, and their conditions remained untreated, which made for a hellish year or so, but once they met Khoudia’s mother, she set them up with a primary care doctor, and Dr. Kasparian has been treating them ever since. Dr. Kasparian has been handling _all_ the rink, actually – everyone except Olivia, seeing as how she had a doctor before she became Celestino’s student.

Dr. Kasparian is going to yell at Yuuri for not coming to their other appointments, but they had a valid reason for not coming. They were busy suffering, so they couldn’t. Surely Valencia had to understand that. After all, she _is_ their doctor.

#

**(Thursday, 17 December 2015 – 3:43pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)**

“Damn,” Khoudia thought, “I didn’t think I was right.” She took a sip of her iced latte as her mother drove. “Do you want a sip of my iced latte?” Khoudia asked Yuuri.

“No, thank you,” Yuuri said.

“You sure? It’s chai tea.”

“I know, but no, thank you,” Yuuri said. “Enjoy your latte.”

“Are you sure you didn’t want anything?”

“Yes.” Mama Awa stopped driving.

“I will go and get your medicine,” Mama Awa said. She turned the key and got out.

“It’s okay, you know,” Khoudia said. Yuuri looked at her. “I mean, it’s not that bad. It’s scary, yeah, but it’s not bad. You adjust eventually, and it’s just… part of life.”

“I don’t want this, though.”

“No one does,” Khoudia said. “But I believe in your ability to outlast everything, you four-eyed demon.”

“Thanks… I think.”

“It’s a good thing! I know you can do this. Just listen to my mom.”

“Is listening to your mom the reason your levels are in the 10s?” Yuuri asked. Khoudia sighed. She turned back around and continued to drink her iced latte.

“You have to tell Phichit.”

“Are you so sure?”

“Yes,” Khoudia said. “I’m sure he’d like to support you.”

“He won’t even have a conversation with me without being snippy,” Yuuri said. “I don’t think anything about that screams ‘support.’”

“Fine, then Victor? He was really worried about you; I’m sure he’d like to know it’s nothing too bad.”

“Too bad?! My hormones are fucking up again!”

“Okay, okay, I _know_ it sucks in combination with everything else, but you can do it! We can go to classes together!” Khoudia took a sip of her iced latte. “But Victor should know, at least. Just to calm his nerves a bit, if anything.”

“He’s not even talking to me without being cryptid.”

“He would still like to know,” Khoudia asserted. “I’m sure he would. Or I could tell him for you?” Yuuri unlocked their phone and gave it to Khoudia. She went to Yuuri’s messages with Victor. When she was done, she gave Yuuri their phone back. “I’m glad we got this sorted out soon before it got worse.” Yuuri’s phone buzzed.

> Victor: I’m sorry you had to find out like that.
> 
> Victor: What do you need from me?

Yuuri gave their phone back to Khoudia. “Handle this. This is your doing.”

“With pleasure,” Khoudia said. Yuuri unlocked their phone for her; she got to work. “Mama will probably want to show you how to use your pen.”

“But I already _know_ how,” Yuuri said.

“I’m sure she’ll want to show you anyway,” Khoudia said. “Maybe she’ll cook for you tonight, too.”

“She doesn’t have to; I just want to go to bed.”

“You can’t. You have to eat.” Yuuri rolled their eyes. “We should go to those classes. I think they’d be beneficial to us.” Yuuri shrugged. “I’d like to eat with you more – if you’re comfortable with it, that is.”

“You already have a second home with me,” Yuuri said. “You’re welcome any time, I suppose. Just let me know two days in advance.”

“We can also go out to eat,” Khoudia said. “We can bring someone else, too. Who would you like to bring?”

“I don’t know. I’m not hungry for anything right now.”

“We can decide later.” Yuuri nodded. “Or tea? We can go to tea houses. That’d be fun.”

“I’ll think about it,” Yuuri murmured. Mama Awa came back and slid in. She reached back and gave Yuuri their medication.

“The pharmacist says ‘hello,’” Mama Awa said.

“I will tell him you told me next time I see him,” Yuuri said. Khoudia put Yuuri’s phone on the armrest; they took it and opened Kim Kardashian: Hollywood.

Mama Awa surprisingly came up with Yuuri and Khoudia. Phichit was lying on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn on his chest.

“I…” Mama Awa said. “Is this what you two do when you are at home?”

“The end of the semester is tomorrow,” Phichit explained.

“What does that have to do with the confusion I was just witnessing?”

“…Yes,” Phichit said.

“Go put on clothes, please,” she said. She turned herself and Khoudia around for Phichit to get up. Yuuri and Phichit exchanged a look.

“I’m going to get changed,” Yuuri said. Mama Awa, Yuuri, and Khoudia took off their shoes, and Yuuri followed after Phichit.

“What happened?” Phichit asked.

“It’s a whole fucking lot,” Yuuri said.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing! It’s just everything in my life picked the perfect time to go left _._ And not even the good kind of left.” Yuuri sighed. They started to take off their sweater. “You’re going to learn a lot today.”

“Oh dear,” Phichit said. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Oh? Please do feel free to back out then. Do not let me inconvenience you.” Phichit deadpanned. “What?”

“Why are you being sarcastic?”

“I’m… not? Do or don’t join me to find out; it makes no difference.” Phichit put on his pants and disregarded Yuuri. Yuuri finished changing and went out to Mama Awa and Khoudia.

“Good. I thought I would have to look for you. Sit down,” Mama Awa said. She looked down the hall. “Where is Phichit? Does he not want to learn?”

“He said he was going to look over a paper. I’ll teach him later.” Mama Awa didn’t say anything. She instructed Yuuri the proper way to give themselves injections and welcomed them to the first day of the rest of their life.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of an era.


End file.
